


Rhythm of Love

by caneeljoy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (couldn't resist the Prom trope), Anxious!Yuuri, Calculus (THE HORROR), Dance Competitions, High School AU, Hotels, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Dancing, Implied Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Light Angst, M/M, OOC Yuuri's parents, Pining!Yuuri, Pole Dancing, Prom, SATs (AHHHHHH), Skating, Viktor being a seductive beast, Viktor trying to teach Yuuri bits of Russian, Yuuri being a cute clumsy moron, Yuuri calling Viktor 'Vitya', Yuuri's parents are much different here than in the canon, and also confident!Yuuri, cliche Christmas and New Year's chapters, dance au, i ain't even sorry, idk guys i'm trying, in case you forget: they are both seniors but Yuuri is 18 while Viktor is 21, our boys being cute, rainbow Jello shots, sex jokes but not really, sexy katsudon, undergoing major editing!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 43,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caneeljoy/pseuds/caneeljoy
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is your average loner American high schooler. All he wants is to finish the school year so he can graduate, and to be able to practice dance without his parents finding out.Enter Viktor Nikiforov, a 21-year-old transfer student from Russia who joins Yuuri's homeroom. Yuuri's life is turned upside-down when Viktor offers to become his coach and train him in competitive dance.Yuuri tries desperately to keep his parents from knowing about his budding dance career, and to keep Viktor from knowing about his massive crush on him.(Spoiler alert: nothing works out the way Yuuri wants it to. Well... almost nothing.)





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor meet, but only Viktor knows.

Yuuri threw his backpack onto the ground and toed it over to the corner of the room. Flicking the lightswitch up, Yuuri let out an automatic sigh of relief. As per his daily routine, he stepped lightly to the center of the room and closed his eyes. Taking three deep breaths, he opened his eyes and smiled.

He kicked off his shoes, tossed them next to his backpack, and went to the stereo. His CDs were stacked there, where he had left them the day before.

After selecting his music for the day, Yuuri went back to the center of the room. He did arm stretches, slowly and carefully, as he was still sore from a week’s worth of routines. Then he went over to the barre and stretched his legs, working his tired muscles. Yuuri knew he had many long hours ahead, and he wanted to be ready.

The second track ended, and Yuuri let his legs relax. He bent his knees a few times, experimenting with their range of motion, as his next track began. He lifted his arms into the familiar first position, turning his toes outwards. Second, third, fourth, and fifth positions, all flowing together, then back to first.

To Yuuri, that was home. He let a small smile curve his lips.

 

Unbeknownst to him, he was not alone in the studio that afternoon: someone was watching. Silently, appraisingly watching.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor run into each other, completing Yuuri's morning of clichés.

“Yuuri! Wake up! You’re going to be late!”

Yuuri shrieked out a poor excuse of a reply, scrambling out of bed and stumbling to his closet. He had hardly any time to think about the stereotypical “late for school” scenario that was playing out. Then again, Yuuri spent about half his time being late to one thing or another.

“Hurry, Yuuri!” As Yuuri tripped downstairs and grabbed his schoolbag, Yuuri’s mother pushed a waffle into his hands. “Have a great day!”

“Is that an order?” Yuuri said, only half sarcastically, and ran out the door.

He hurried down the street — luckily for him, his parents’ house was only six blocks from the school. Still — he glanced at his watch — he would have to run six blocks in two minutes to make the tardy bell!

If his top speed was seven miles per hour, he could make it in about eight minutes, and that was assuming-

Yuuri was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he wasn't paying any attention to the people around him. Specifically, the only person on the sidewalk who neglected to move out of his way in time…

_Crash!_

As he fell to the ground, Yuuri managed not to try and catch himself with his hands — who knew what kind of injury he could sustain by doing that. But his tailbone made contact with the sidewalk, hard.

“Augh…” Yuuri winced as he pushed himself up on his elbows, muscles complaining and backside throbbing.

He noticed, with a start, tall boy he had plowed into, who was sprawled on the sidewalk in front of him.

Yuuri flushed and leapt to his feet. “A-ah…! I’m so sorry! Are you alright…?”

The boy looked up at Yuuri. His blue eyes sparkled, shimmering in the headlights of cars flashing past. Yuuri was mesmerized.

“I’m alright,” the boy said.

Yuuri realized how rude he was being and quickly extended his hand. “I... I’m really s-sorry!”

The boy took it, and got to his feet without really pulling on Yuuri’s hand. “Thank you. Now, where are you going in such a hurry?”

“S-school… Oh, oh no!” Yuuri looked at his watch again, heart hammering even harder — the tardy bell had already rung. “I have to go!”

“Wait!” The boy grabbed Yuuri’s forearm as he started past him. “I’m going there, too!”

“But…” The boy looked old to be going to high school. “Why were you going the opposite way…?”

The boy grinned. “I forgot my schedule at home!”

“Th-the main office can print you one…”

“Oh, really? That’s so kind!”

Yuuri wasn’t sure whether this boy was slow or simply screwing with him. Either way, he was going to be extremely late for school if he didn’t hurry... “We should h-hurry…”

“Right, of course.” The boy flicked silver hair off his face. (It slid right back into place.) “Let's go, then!”

Yuuri blinked, and the boy had already jogged half a block.

“H-hey, wait up!” Yuuri ran after him, cursing himself.

~

As it turned out, the bells had been unexpectedly turned off. Nobody knew how it had happened, but it was godsent. Yuuri slipped into homeroom a few minutes before announcements began.

Yuuri took out his sketching notebook, and stared out the window, tapping a pencil against his chin. When he heard his teacher, Ms. Moreau, clear her throat, he looked up, anticipating a lecture on class policy… and received the shock of his life.

The silver-haired boy was standing at the front of the classroom.

“Class, this is Viktor Nikiforov. He will be joining our homeroom,” Ms. Moreau said. “He’s been in Russia for the past few years, but has come to America to obtain his high school diploma. I expect you to all treat him kindly.”

Most of the girls in the class seemed overlyinterested in the mysterious newcomer. A few raised their hands.

“Yes, Emma?” Ms. Moreau said.

“What were you doing in Russia, Viktor?” the girl asked, starry-eyed.

Viktor graced her with a smile. “I was being trained in dance,” he said.

Yuuri sat up a little straighter. This new boy… was also interested in dance?

The girls of the class _also_ seemed to find that fact interesting.

“That’s so cool!” Kylie breathed.

Amber clasped her hands together. “What kinds of dance did you do?”

“Oh, many different kinds.” Viktor beamed. “Tap, lyrical, salsa, ballroom, some swing…” He winked. “I even had an instructor from Detroit who came to Russia and taught me some hip hop — street dancing.”

“Wow…” (Yuuri recognized that sound as half the class falling in love.)

Annoyance surged through Yuuri. He raised his hand.

Yuuri saw Viktor’s eyes travel down Yuuri’s arm, then to Yuuri’s eyes. Viktor’s face lit up with some emotion — amusement? Recognition?

“You, with the dark hair,” Viktor said.

“It’s Yuuri,” Yuuri said, hardly believing the words coming out his mouth. “I was wondering, have you trained in ballet?”

The emotion on Viktor’s face was definitely amusement. “Of course.”

“And contemporary?"

“Naturally,” Viktor said. His eyes were shining again.

Yuuri managed a quick smile before lowering his gaze.

“Well!” Ms. Moreau clapped her hands, startling most of the class from their stupor. “If you’ve all had enough of ogling the new student, I’d like to pass out schedules.”

Yuuri dropped his head, and his heart stammered. That burst of confidence… where had it come from? Whatever it had been, it was gone, leaving him with a sinking feeling of embarrassment. Viktor probably thought he was certifiable. 

He was so wrapped up in his shame that he didn't notice Viktor’s stare, heavy on him, for the rest of homeroom.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri thinks he'll be able to relax at Bailey's... little does he know, he's doomed to a future with Viktor Nikiforov.

The whole school was buzzing about the transfer student from Russia. Rumors were flying already that he was married (to a woman, to a man, to _multiple_ women), that he was actually a scientist and was working on the cure for cancer (Yuuri rolled his eyes at that one), that he was well on his way to seducing all of the teachers at school.

(Yuuri was amazed at the efficiency of his school’s rumor mill.)

Concentrating in class was basically impossible, and Yuuri was mentally exhausted by the time the final bell rang. It was such a relief to burst through the front doors of the school and high-tail it to Bailey’s Dance Studio.

Unfortunately for Yuuri, his day of nasty surprises was not even close to being over.

“Yuuri!” Ms. Whittaker smiled as he came in the front door. “Early as usual.”

“I’ll head in.” Yuuri started towards the back door, only paying half-attention.

“Actually, there’s someone in there already,” Ms. Whittaker said, rifling through a drawer behind the counter. “I’m sure if you wait a moment, he’ll come back out.” 

Yuuri was considering leaving when the back door opened, and, naturally, the transfer student walked into the room.

“Ah, Mr. Nikiforov!” Ms. Whittaker said. “How did you like the space? Was it to your standards?”

“It’s much bigger than I expected!” Viktor replied. “What are your rates?”

Yuuri, hoping that Viktor hadn’t noticed him, started to back up towards the door.

“Not so fast, Yuuri!”

Hand on the doorknob, Yuuri cringed.

“What are you doing, sneaking out like that?” Ms. Whittaker put her hands on her hips.

“I wasn’t sneaking,” muttered Yuuri, turning back around. He looked up and saw Viktor and Ms. Whittaker staring at him.

“Mr. Nikiforov, this is Yuuri.” Ms. Whittaker beckoned Yuuri closer, and Yuuri slowly complied. “He’s been coming here since elementary school, haven’t you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri blushed and fiddled with his backpack strap, looking anywhere but at Viktor. “H-has it been that long?”

“I’m sure it has!” Ms. Whittaker smiled. “Anyways. Mr. Nikiforov… are you willing to negotiate prices?”

“I’m heading to the studio,” Yuuri murmured, edging past Viktor and through the door.

He hurried down the hall, mind racing. What was wrong with him? Why was he getting so flustered around this new student? It must be because he was older, Yuuri decided. And imposing, and handsome, and he liked dance. That was all.

Yuuri closed the studio door with a bit of extra force and flicked on the lights. The floor shone, reflecting off the wall-to-wall mirrors, and like always, Yuuri was finally able to breathe.

His CDs were  shuffled out of order… had Viktor looked through them? Yuuri’s face reddened. He quickly reorganized them and pulled out an old favorite CD, a George Winston album. (He didn’t know any professional that would approve of ballet to George Winston, but all the same…)

Leg stretches, arm stretches, some low-impact yoga. Yuuri took three deep breaths and retrieved his ballet slippers from his bag. As he was pulling them on, the track changed again, to one of his favorite songs.

He slid into his second of three routines. He’d made this one up himself, and it was far from professional, but it felt good and he enjoyed the movements.

There wasn’t much pointe work, since that was risky and Yuuri knew that without an instructor, it was easy to do incorrectly, not to mention the fact that his slippers were the incorrect type. But there were times when he lifted himself to his toes and spun, head thrown back, and it felt like flying.

The music changed again, and Yuuri jumped lightly into the air, once, twice, three times. He flew into a quatre entrechat, then into a single fouetté, before he lost steam. Second position, to breathe, then into fifth, raising his left leg behind him and leaning forward…

“Have you ever partnered before?” came a familiar voice.

Yuuri nearly jumped out of his skin. “Ah…!” His foot dropped to the floor.

Moving painfully slow, he turned his head to see Viktor leaning in the doorway.

Face flushing, Yuuri scratched the nape of his neck. “N-no, never…”

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” Viktor’s presence in the room was stifling... he was excluding heat and confidence. “Your face is rather red.”

“I’m just tired,” Yuuri said quickly. He paused the CD player and struggled to think of something to say. His mind felt like it was wrapped in fog.

“Do you like Bailey’s?” he asked in a rush.

“Yes, it’s a nice place, don’t you think?” Viktor smiled. “I came here to find a space to rent out. I need a place to practice, and I was thinking of possibly offering classes…”

“O-oh! I would take your class!” Yuuri blurted, then hurriedly added “if you were t-to decide to offer it, I m-mean…”

Viktor chuckled. “I will keep you informed… Yuuri, was it?”

“Y-yes…” Yuuri felt like he was going to faint.

“Well, I would like to use this studio sometimes,” Viktor said, “but of course we could share. Do you come here after school every day?”

Yuuri nodded, feeling stupid and like a bobblehead. “Almost every day.”

“Then I’ll schedule a later time.” Viktor winked at him. “Or I might come early, and give you some pointers.”

“I w-would really appreciate th-that."

“I will let you get back to your routines,” Viktor said. “You have good form. Did you teach yourself?”

“Yes...” Yuuri couldn't bear to look directly at him.

Viktor turned to leave, flashing one last smile at Yuuri in the mirror. “Wonderful. I’d like to see you perform a routine professionally someday.”

And he was gone, taking Yuuri’s focus with him. The next two hours were agonizing, as Yuuri tripped over his own feet thinking about Viktor’s eyes, and how they'd looked reflecting the overhead lights…

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those dratted triplets go ahead and put Yuuri's life on a semi-canon-compliant track.

The video wasn’t Yuuri’s fault in the slightest.

It was all thanks to those awful children. Ms. Whittaker babysat a trio of triplets every Thursday and Friday while their parents were at work. Usually they kept out of Yuuri’s way, but that Friday, they had stolen Ms. Whittaker’s phone, camped out in the studio's locker room, and taped Yuuri’s routine of the day.

The most embarrassing part was that the routine was one of Viktor’s! Yuuri had binge-watched a bunch of Viktor’s videos the past night, astounded at the amount of competitions Viktor had competed in (and won). The song was called “Danse Macabre” by Taku Iwasaki, and it was full of intricate steps, a fusion of ballet and another form of dance that Yuuri didn't recognize. But he watched the video three or four times, went to Bailey’s, and performed it in the studio. He had no idea he was being filmed, so he gave it his all… which made it all the more embarrassing.

The moment the triplets uploaded the video, several of Yuuri's acquaintances, many of them from his dance summer camp, texted him. Things like “why did you let yourself be filmed doing a mimicry routine?” and “your dance career is over before it even started!” and supportive messages like that.

Yuuri wanted to hide under his bed and never come out.

So, of course, Viktor decided to come visit him.

His mom knocked on his door. “Yuuri? Yuuri, sweetie, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Don’t wanna see anyone.” Yuuri’s voice was muffled by his pillow.

“It’s the new student,” his mother offered. “The one with the cute Russian accent?”

Yuuri’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Tell him I’m not here!”

“Are you in a fight?” His mom’s voice was worried. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no, I, um… I don’t want to…” Yuuri trailed off without finishing his sentence.

“Hello?” Viktor’s voice floated up the stairs. “Yuuri, are you here?”

Yuuri fell out of his bed with a _thud_.

“Sorry,” his mother said, not sounding that sorry.

Yuuri knew it was useless to hide now, and there was nothing to do save jump out the window. He debated that for a second, but was interrupted by Viktor bursting into his bedroom.

“Yuuri!” he said.

Said Yuuri was still curled up in a ball of the floor, tangled up in his comforter.

“Where is he?” Viktor’s voice was a bit fainter.

Yuuri perked up. Maybe he would leave?

“On the floor,” came the voice of Yuuri’s mother.

“Oh!” Something nudged Yuuri’s arm. “Yuuri? Are you alright?”

“No,” he said, voice muffled.

Two hands patted his back, then slid to his biceps, closing around his upper arms. “Come on, you shouldn’t lay on the floor like that.” Viktor started to lift Yuuri up in the air, but Yuuri squirmed away, managing to disentangle himself from his blanket.

“Much better,” Viktor said. Yuuri could hear the smile in his voice.

Yuuri dropped down onto his bed. He couldn’t bear to look Viktor in the eye.

“Yuuri?” The bed shifted, and Yuuri guessed Viktor had sat down next to him.

“Mm.” Yuuri stared at his hands.

“Why are you hiding?” Viktor said. “I apologize for being blunt, but…”

“Why do you even care?” Yuuri mumbled. “We only just met.”

“I saw the video, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s blood ran cold.

“That’s why I’m here.” Yuuri started as Viktor put a warm hand on his shoulder. “I guessed you had potential, but I had no idea you had such raw talent!”

“You don’t have to say that…”

“Say what?”

“Compliment me.” Yuuri’s face was flushed. “I copied you. That's it.”

“No, Yuuri,” Viktor said. “There was emotion there. Emotion and talent.”

“…thank you."

“I would like your permission to coach you,” said Viktor.

Yuuri leapt to his feet and stared at Viktor.

Viktor cocked his head. “Is something wrong?”

“I… I…” Yuuri’s head was spinning. All he could manage was: “I have no way to pay you!”

“That’s fine!” Viktor waved a hand, smiling. “We can work something out with your parents, or maybe I’ll simply waive any fees altogether!”

“N-no… I’m sure I can find a way to pay you, w-without involving my parents-"

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” Viktor said. “So, will you become my student?”

“It… it w-would be… m-my honor,” Yuuri managed.

 

“What was all that about?” Yuuri’s mother asked once Viktor had left.

“O-oh, he’s a classmate of mine,” Yuuri said, fiddling with his fingers.

“Well? What did he want?”

“He s-saw the video a-and wanted to reassure me th-that it wasn’t anything to be a-ashamed of…” Yuuri hedged. Technically that was true…  

“Ah, the video.” Her voice had changed, the way it always did when she spoke of Yuuri’s passion for dance. “You know, Yuuri, you should be spending less time at that dance studio and more time studying…”

“I have been studying!” Yuuri said defensively, looking down. “I only go to Bailey's once or twice a week, remember? The rest of the time I go to the library!”

“What else did that boy say?” his mother said.

“What do you-”

“You two were talking for quite a while, and I could hear you becoming flustered.”

Yuuri chose to ignore the fact that she had been eavesdropping. He scrambled for a lie. “V-Viktor was simply offering help… tutoring.”

“A tutor?”

“Y-yes, I don’t want to fall behind in Science like I did last year…”

“Ah, that fiasco. How could I forget?” She laughed. “This Viktor boy seems nice. Maybe he could become a friend?”

“Mom!” Yuuri complained. “It’s only the first week of school! I don’t want to rush into that!”

“I’m talking about friendship,” she said. “Not a romantic commitment.”

“I-I know th-that!” Yuuri spluttered.

“Yuuri, you’re such a sweetheart!" She pinched his cheek and headed for the living room.

 _Phew._ Yuuri headed back to his bedroom, hands sweating. He’d almost wrecked it all, but if his mom bought the tutor thing… he might be able to train for longer after school. The thought cheered him as he sat down at his desk and dug into a pile of homework.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor asks Yuuri what inspires him. Yuuri's too much of a wimp to admit it's Viktor.

“So, Yuuri!” Viktor sat down on a footstool and crossed one leg over the other. “What inspires you?”

“Huh?” was Yuuri’s intelligent answer.

“What inspires you when you dance? Do you have a muse?”

Yuuri flushed. He was loath to admit it, but he’d watched all of Viktor’s videos online over the past week, and wasn't too surprised to find that Viktor was an incredible dancer, and his skating routines were flawless. He was what Yuuri had been striving for all his life.

“Other performers motivate me,” he finally said. “I watch these amazing performances online, and sometimes they motivate me to work harder.”

“Sometimes?”

“Well, other times they make me feel completely inadequate…” Yuuri muttered.

Viktor laughed. “Be more confident in yourself, Yuuri! You have the makings of a great dancer.”

“Y-you think…?” 

“Yes, yes!” Viktor smiled. “I brought in a selection of music today. Would you mind listening to a few pieces?”

“A few pieces” turned out to be an afternoon’s worth of critiquing musical scores. Viktor even brought some sheet music along. Yuuri tried to be interested in all of it, but by five o'clock he was mentally exhausted.

Yuuri stood up, stretched, and went over to Viktor, tapping his shoulder. Viktor jumped, reaching over and pausing the music. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but my parents want me home by five thirty…” Yuuri scratched the back of his head.

“No problem at all!” Viktor smiled and folded up his sheet music. “Make sure you do some stretches tonight. Tomorrow we’ll go over some choreography. Maybe we’ll go through one of your routines?"

Yuuri’s cheeks reddened for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. “Oh, they’re not that great, especially compared to yours…” he said, handing the scores back to Viktor.

“Confidence, Yuuri!” Viktor reminded him good-naturedly. “I'll see you in homeroom tomorrow, then. Goodnight!”

“Yes, goodnight.”

The air outside was chilly, but Yuuri’s heart was beating fast enough to ward off the chill. His walk home was slow, and he was lost in thought about Viktor, the transfer student who'd dropped out of the sky like an angel, messing up Yuuri’s entire life.

Yuuri didn’t mind one bit.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yuuri's having trouble balancing schoolwork, sleep, and lying to his family and coach.

A week went by, a month. Yuuri was perpetually tired, because whenever he thought about sleeping, he remembered a million other things he could be doing: studying, stretching... or actually relaxing, which was a rare occurrence. Yuuri's idea of relaxing happened late at night, and it consisted of Yuuri using his laptop under his covers, either watching Viktor’s videos or puttering around on social media.

As winter settled over Yuuri’s small hometown, he discovered exactly how hard it was to keep his dance lessons a secret from his parents… and how hard it was to dodge Viktor’s innocent questions. He’d say something sweet, and Yuuri would shoot him down. For instance:

“So, when can I meet your parents?” he asked one afternoon.

“O-oh, we have almost opposite s-schedules,” Yuuri lied, cursing his stammer. (It got worse when he was nervous.) “I’ll t-try and find a time…”

“Oh. Okay.”

And Viktor would drop it, and Yuuri would feel horrible.

At home, his father didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, but his mother pried.

“Why are you so late?” she’d ask.

“The sidewalks were slippery, so I walked slowly.”

Or “I was finishing up a paper, I didn’t want to get up and forget what I was going to write next.” Or “I was emailing a teacher about an assignment.” Yuuri had a plethora of excuses he used. It was almost like a game, lying to his mother… a dangerous, uncomfortable game, one that Yuuri didn’t like at all.

Viktor worked on his routines with him, pointing out movements he could add or tweak. He’d even choreographed a three-minute routine for Yuuri, ballet, and then had him perform it on ice.

“I think I like dancing off the ice more,” Yuuri said when he finished his first run-through.

Viktor laughed. “Me, too, but it’s a good idea to work with different mediums. Maybe we’ll start a different genre next… hip hop, maybe?”

Yuuri blanched.

“Yuuri, you get spooked so easily!” Viktor laughed and clapped a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I was teasing you! That’s a little far out of your comfort zone, don’t you think? Besides…” His expression turned devious. “There isn't a hip hop category in the National Dance Finals.”

“Wh-what…?!”

And so Yuuri discovered that Viktor was planning on training him for the Nationals, which threw a tiny wrench in the whole “not-telling-the-parents” thing.

“Did you think I was simply training you for fun?” Viktor pounded his right palm with his left fist. “No, you have so much potential! Of course, there are the preliminaries, and past that is the inter-state competition, but I-S is quite a ways away. The preliminaries start in a few months, so we have plenty of time to put together some fantastic routines. You may even be able to beat my score in ballet…”

“You competed?” Yuuri squeaked.

“Naturally!” Viktor said. “Oh, Yuuri, you’ll love Nationals, I know it! I met so many nice people there.”

“U-uhm…”

Yuuri knew. He knew he had to tell Viktor he couldn’t do it, his mother wouldn’t allow him, but... 

But what if Viktor left, then? If he knew Yuuri couldn’t work towards this goal with him... 

“Yes, Yuuri?”

The beautiful blue of Viktor’s eyes made Yuuri want to cry.

“N-nothing.” Yuuri looked away, and the moment was gone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a crazy amount of time on my hands right now, so chapter updates will be infrequent for a while. Honestly, I usually wait until I've finished the whole story until posting, but I wanted to put this out there for everyone! So, yes, there is more coming, but I don't know exactly when. Hopefully soon! Thanks for your support!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is a sexy playboy, and Yuuri tries out seduction.

“Alright.” Viktor clapped his hands. “I have a new song for you, for the interstate competition. The preliminaries are in three weeks, but I want you to start practicing for the finals now.”

“The finals…?” Yuuri stretched his arms high above his head, arching his back. “What about the preliminaries? The inter-state-”

“You’re good at memorization,” Viktor said, waving a dismissive hand. “I have a piece today for you that I want you to try out.”

“Which of my routines should I use?”

“None of them.” Viktor smiled. “I want you to choreograph it on the spot.”

Yuuri, who had been taking a sip of water, nearly choked. “Wh… what?!”

“You can do that, can’t you?” Walking over to the CD player, Viktor made eye contact with Yuuri in the mirror. “Give it a try. I've come up with some of my best inspiration through improvisation."

“What song is it?” Yuuri set down his water bottle, trying to calm himself.

Viktor pressed play without saying a word, and an unfamiliar song came on. There was a strong, strumming bass line, accented by snaps and a synthesizer line.

“Seduce me” was all Viktor said.

Yuuri’s face flushed.

But the music was moving along at a fast clip, and Yuuri knew he had to move…

He didn’t have much practice with seductive movements — he'd never tried anything like this before, never expected to have to seduce someone with dance. He closed his eyes and moved sinuously, glancing at himself in the mirror every once in a while. Arms loose, movements undulating. He never let his feet leave the floor, sliding instead of stepping.

At first, Yuuri felt incredibly self-conscious, but as the music pounded on, he became less and less aware of Viktor’s scrutiny. In fact, he used it to power himself further, working himself harder. Yuuri worked in hip movements, flowing across the floor — light like ballet, but with some invisible weight.

The music was winding down. Yuuri moved into a long, fluid series of steps, ending with his back arched, arms slightly curved foreward, one leg back.

The room was totally silent for a moment. Yuuri panted. A bead of sweat dripped down his face.

Viktor clapped. “That was beautiful, Yuuri! I never knew you had a side of you like that.”

“M-me, neither…” Yuuri was bashful again, shrugging his shoulders.

“Wonderful,” Viktor said. “Almost… erotic.” He tapped his chin with one finger. “We’ll work some of that into your final routine. Now, some of your turns were a bit sloppy…”

Yuuri relaxed as they settled back into more familiar territory.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is shocked at how good of a liar he's become.  
> Or:  
> Yuuri prepares for the preliminaries.

Viktor handed Yuuri the flyer for the preliminary less than a week in advance, on a Tuesday. “I signed you up yesterday, and the fees were waived since you’re young.” He smiled. “Make sure you can fit it into your calendar!”

Yuuri read and re-read the flyer as he walked home. The competition was that Saturday, in a large dance studio a few towns over. It wasn’t genre-constrained, which was exciting, and many people from his state would be participating.

But how could he keep it from his parents…?

He folded up the flyer and put it in his pocket

“Mom, I’m home!” he called, closing the front door behind him.

“I’m in the kitchen!” she called.

Yuuri took off his shoes and went in, inhaling deeply. “What’s that smell?”

“I’m re-heating some leftover katsudon,” she said. “We didn’t have as many customers as I expected today, so there’s some left over.”

“I love katsudon!”

“I know you do.” Yuuri’s mother turned from the stove and pinched his cheek. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

Right, mother’s sixth sense. Yuuri forced a smile. “I wanted to tell you my class is going on a field trip this weekend.”

“Oh? Where to?”

“A museum a few towns away.” Yuuri did his best to keep his hands still and eyes level with his mother's. “It’ll be for most of Saturday, and I can get myself to and from the school, so I just wanted to tell you.”

“Sounds like fun!” She turned back to her cooking. “Have a good time!”

Yuuri let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He took his backpack upstairs with him, adrenaline rush fading, smiling like an idiot.

~

“Where should I meet you?” Yuuri asked that Wednesday at the end of practice.

“Do you need me to drive you, or can your parents do it?”

Yuuri’s mind worked furiously. “It depends on when you’re leaving, and if you’d mind me coming along with you. But I can get transportation there and back, no problem.” He figured he could catch a bus if Viktor didn't want to drive him.

“I’d love to have you along!” said Viktor. “We can go over the choreography orally on the way.”

Yuuri cringed at the thought, but he couldn’t help but smile. He’d been solid on the choreography for the past week, but going over it with Viktor was entertaining, because Viktor would get so riled up about it.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said.

“It’s no problem!”

Yuuri wanted to thank Viktor again, but felt awkward. So he held his tongue simply smiled again, feeling like his heart could float out of his chest.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri attends his first preliminary event, and Viktor learns that Yuuri is a cute sleeper.

Yuuri woke up early, gathered his things, and left his house by five-thirty. By five-forty, he was standing in front of Bailey’s, jogging in place to keep warm. His breath came out in puffs in the freezing air.

An unfamiliar car pulled into the parking lot at five-forty-five. It parked, and Viktor popped out, waving. “Yuuri! Early as usual.”

“Didn’t want to keep you waiting,” Yuuri said, hurrying to grab his backpack.

“Hurry, get in, it’s cold!”

Yuuri hopped into the passenger’s seat, swinging his bag down to rest on top of his feet. He rubbed his hands together to try and warm them up.

Viktor put the car in gear, pulling out of the parking lot. “How did you sleep last night, Yuuri?”

“Alright,” said Yuuri, which wasn’t a complete lie. He’d slept… woken up about ten times, but he’d slept.

“It might be a good idea to nap on the way,” Viktor suggested. “We’ve got an hour of driving ahead, and I always try and sleep until the last minute before a performance.”

“Maybe you’re right…” Yuuri felt a bit self-conscious about sleeping in front of Viktor, but leaned his head against the cold window, closing his eyes.

“Here.” Something heavy and warm landed on Yuuri’s lap. Yuuri opened his eyes and saw Viktor had tossed him his coat. “I don’t want you hitting your head and hurting yourself.”

“A-ah... okay.” Yuuri carefully folded up the coat and laid it down, resting his head on top of it. It was a little scratchy, but it smelled nice, like Viktor. Yuuri sighed and closed his eyes again.

With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice Viktor glance over at him, a smile darting across his lips.

~

“Yuuri.” Somebody was shaking his shoulder. “Yuuri, we’re here.”

Blinking, Yuuri groaned. “Already?”

Viktor was holding back a smile. “Yes, Yuuri. We need to hurry to registration, it closes in ten minutes.”

That woke Yuuri up. He snatched his backpack off the ground, stammering “sorry, sorry,” and threw open the car door, nearly clipping the minivan parked next to them.

“Nothing to apologize for.” Viktor was composed as ever. “The entrance is this way.”

“How do you know?” Yuuri trotted after him.

“There’s a sign,” Viktor pointed out, and indeed there was. A large one.

“S-sorry, I’m still kinda tired…”

“Yuuri, stop apologizing.” Viktor’s voice was teasing. “It’s fine.”

Ducking his head, Yuuri nodded. “Okay…”

The man at the registration desk was kind and efficient. “Good luck!” he said to them after he marked their names down.

Yuuri’s heart was beginning to pound, and he felt the familiar sensation of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He took a few deep breaths.

Suddenly, Viktor put his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “Yuuri.”

“Y-yes…?”

“You’re going the wrong way,” Viktor said.

Yuuri realized he’d almost walked straight into a wall. “Sor- I mean, thank you.”

“The waiting room is this way.” Viktor slid his arm down from Yuuri’s shoulders to wrap around his waist, guiding him. A mixture of gratitude and embarrassment rippled through his body.

The waiting room was filled with dancers, many young, around Yuuri’s age. There was a smattering of chatter, but most people were standing alone, stretching, listening to music on their phones.

“Here.” A water bottle and a small apple were pushed into Yuuri’s hands. “You need to keep your energy up.”

Yuuri ate the apple slowly, trying to slow down his heart rate.

“First audition call, for Tyresian Black and Minami Kenjirou.”

Well, there went Yuuri’s heart rate. He watched with wide eyes as two boys went to the front of the room, to the attendant who had called their names. One of them had a red streak in his hair — he glanced over at Yuuri and grinned. Yuuri managed a tight smile back, marveling at how young the boy looked.

Viktor’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Yuuri, you should do some stretching. You’re in the fourth group.”

Yuuri’s stomach was tied in knots to the point of pain. He put in his earbuds, listening to the familiar violin line of his performance piece, and stretched out on the wall, twisting his body to the side-

Someone tapped his shoulder. Yuuri turned around, and it was the attendant. He took his earphones out.

“Mr. Katsuki, it’s your turn.”

Yuuri, betrayal in his eyes, glanced at Viktor, who gave him a sheepish smile and held up three fingers. Yuuri followed the attendant from the room.

“Are you nervous?” the attendant asked.

“Uhm, a little bit,” lied Yuuri.

“Oh, don’t be!” The attendant, a girl of about twenty, grinned over her shoulder. “The judges are so nice! One of them’s my aunt.”

“T-that’s cool…”

The girl opened a door for him. “Break a leg! You’ll do great!”

A row of three judges was sitting at a table, overlooking a space of about thirty square feet. Yuuri, pulse hammering, walked to the center of the space and turned to face the judges.

“Name?”

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

“What piece and genre will you be showing us today?”

“Ballet,” Yuuri said, “and the piece is called “Stay Close to Me.””

“We’ll begin whenever you’re ready.”

Yuuri took a deep breath, another, another. “I’m ready.”

The slow music began, sliding through the speakers, and Yuuri _danced._

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes in and out of shock, runs into a childhood friend, and is taken out to lunch by his coach... all before dinnertime.

“Well?”

Yuuri looked up from the floor to see Viktor, arms folded, staring at him.

“Huh?”

“How was it?” Viktor asked, ever-patient.

“Oh.” Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowed. “You mean the routine?”

Viktor’s arm snaked around his waist again, and Yuuri found himself sitting in a chair. “Are you in shock?”

Yuuri's head felt light. “No.”

“Then how did the routine go?”

“I have no idea."

Viktor seemed torn between disbelief and amusement. “You have no idea?”

“It’s all kind of… a blur.”

A water bottle was pushed into his hands. “Drink. Did you miss any steps?”

Yuuri uncapped the bottle. He noticed his hands trembling. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s a relief.” Viktor took a seat next to him. “Well, all we have to do now is wait.”

They waited. And waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually Yuuri snapped out of his daze, and kind of wished he hadn’t. He apologized to Viktor after his head felt clear.

“It’s no big deal” was all Viktor said in reply. “You were nervous. It’s understandable.”

“I didn’t miss any of the steps,” Yuuri said. “Even the set of déboulés near the end that I messed up so much.”

“Good job!" Viktor smiled. "When you make it past the primaries, we’ll be able to branch into other styles of dance.”

“You say that like I’ve already placed here-”

“You have,” said Viktor. “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later, the competitors were called into the gymnasium. A man was standing onstage with a microphone and a sheet of paper.

“Thank you for your patience," he said. "Here are the scores for the junior and senior female groups-"

People snapped photos as the juniors took to the stage. Yuuri noticed there were some professional photographers there… and was that the logo of a national news channel he saw? His palms started to sweat.

“And for the junior and senior male groups-”

Yuuri tuned out the announcer's voice, focusing on his breathing, and Viktor touched his arm. Yuuri jumped and looked over at him.

“Relax.” Viktor’s smile was kind, almost overly-kind.

“Fourth place, Minami Kenjirou!”

The small boy leapt up onstage to accept his certificate, blowing a kiss to the crowd.

Third place was called, someone Yuuri didn’t recognize. As the applause rang out, Yuuri’s shoulders slumped. He hadn’t placed after all. Back to the drawing b-

“Second place, Yuuri Katsuki!”

“Go, Yuuri, go!” Viktor said, nudging him forward.

Another daze settled over Yuuri. He stumbled to the stage and accepted the certificate, remembering to smile at the crowd.

“And first place, Phichit Chulanont!”

When Yuuri heard the familiar name, he stopped dead, eyes widening. He whipped around around to see... 

Phichit came down off the stage and made his way over to Yuuri. “Wow, Yuuri! I had no idea you were competing!”

“Phichit, it’s been so long!” Yuuri grinned. “I didn’t know you were back in America!”

“I'm homeschooled now.” Phichit leaned back on his heels. “Who is that with you?”

Viktor came up behind Yuuri. “Hey, Yuuri, who’s this?”

“Viktor, this is my friend Phichit. We went to middle school together.” Yuuri turned back to Phichit. “Phichit, this is Viktor Nikiforov. He’s a transfer student at my school, and my coach.”

“I’ve heard of you!” Phichit tapped his chin with one finger. “Didn’t you place first in the Afro-Eurasian Dance Final?”

“That's me!” Viktor said cheerfully.

“Phichit, I think people are looking for you…” Yuuri glanced past his friend at a group of people pointing cameras their way.

“Yuuri, you come too!” Phichit smiled. “You placed right after me!”

“A-ah, I’d, um, I'd rather n, not…” Yuuri shrugged one shoulder. “I’d just like to, um, get my scoresheet and get going, if that’s alright, Viktor…”

Viktor nodded. “That’s fine. Nice meeting you, Phichit!”

Phichit, to his credit, didn’t look put off. “See you soon!” he said, turning away and smiling for the cameras.

Out in the hall, the same girl who’d escorted Yuuri to his audition was handing out scoresheets. She spotted him and, smiling widely, handed him a sheet of paper. “Great job, Katsuki! Good luck in the next competition!”

Yuuri took the paper from her, mumbled a “thank you,” and hurried outside.

“Why are you in such a rush?” Viktor jogged alongside Yuuri as he speed-walked to Viktor’s car.

“I don’t really like cameras, or talking to people I don’t know.” That wasn’t a lie, but the real problem was the possibility of Yuuri’s parents reading the paper and seeing an article about Yuuri placing second in a dance competition they knew nothing about.

“It’s nearly two,” Viktor said. “How about I treat you to a late lunch, and drop you off at home?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t-”

“My treat,” Viktor insisted.

“Alright, fine, but we’ll split the bill."

“Sure, sure.”

~

Viktor, the jerk, had paid the bill in full while distracting Yuuri with a story about an eight-year-old Russian prodigy, who was also, incidentally, named Yuri. Yuuri was not pleased. Viktor had laughed about the indignant look on Yuuri's face and Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Thank you for the meal,” Yuuri said shyly as Viktor pulled into his driveway.

“Not a problem at all!” Viktor winked. “It was fun. Let’s do it again sometime!”

“Wh- huh- wha… um…?”

Viktor simply laughed again and handed Yuuri his backpack. “Have a good weekend, Yuuri. See you at school!”

“Y, yeah, see... see you…”

“Was that the Viktor boy again?” his mother asked.

“He gave me a ride.” Not technically a lie.

“How was the field trip?”

“It was fine,” Yuuri said, high-tailing it upstairs to hide in his bedroom.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any missteps when talking about ballet moves and dance competitions... the ballet moves I look up, and the competition structure I created based off the YOI structure but not totally dependent on it. Well, it's an AU! Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri makes it through his second preliminary without a breakdown... narrowly.

Viktor informed Yuuri about the second set of preliminaries less than a week later, before that day’s practice.

“It’s the closest one,” he said, “but we’ll still have to miss some school for it. That’s alright, isn’t it?”

Yuuri knew how to forge a note from his mother. “No problem,” he said, fishing his ballet shoes from his backpack.

“This is the determining performance, Yuuri,” Viktor continued.  “Your previous routine showed the judges you have the potential. If you secure a higher score in this one, so many doors will open for you!”

Yuuri, if he was being honest with himself, was considering dropping out of high school. He was in a state of perpetual exhaustion, both physically and mentally. The only thing that kept him going was, well, Viktor.

“What’s the genre?” Yuuri asked.

“It’s open again,” said Viktor, “but I think we should mix it up a little bit. My edge in competition was that I was able to surprise the judges nine times out of ten. You should try and do that as well.”

“So, what are you proposing?” Yuuri lifted his left leg onto the barre and leaned into the stretch.

“Well, once you advance in competition, judges stop asking for genre, unless you’re in a specific kind of competition.” Viktor winked. “Ballet as a base is fine, since it’s your strength, but I think we should apply some airwork.”

“Airwork?”

“Sorry, that must be a different word in English…” Viktor put three fingers to his temple. “Maybe… leaps? Lighter steps?”

“So you think I should try and add more jumps and spins?” Yuuri guessed.

“Yes, if we can make you a routine similar to a skater’s, it would be very unique,” Viktor said. “Obviously there are some things that you cannot do off the ice, but simpler spins are often attractive and gain style points.”

“Alright, if that’s what you think will work…”

And so Viktor began to train Yuuri on “airwork.” It was tough, to say the least. Viktor kept using skating lingo, which confused Yuuri, who only skated for fun and to add to his strength in dance.

“Skating was such a big part of my career,” Viktor explained. “I can’t seem to stop using the language altogether.”

“Skating, huh…”

“Who knows!” Viktor smiled. “If you get past the preliminaries, you may even be able to compete in skating preliminaries!”

“I d-don’t think I’m quite th-that good…” Yuuri scratched the back of his neck.

“Time will tell!” Viktor said, unflappable in his optimism.

By the one-week mark before the second preliminary, Yuuri had his routine down pat. So of course Viktor threw him a curveball.

~

“How did it go, Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice was music to Yuuri’s ears.

“Fine,” he said, a bit shortly. “Considering you had me completely reverse my routine at the last minute.”

“Oh, Yuuri, challenge builds character! How did the 360 jump go? Did you stumble?”

“No.”

“Aw, don’t be mad at me! I thought you forgave me!”

Yuuri tipped his water bottle back and took a swig. “Forgiven, sure.” He wiped his mouth with one hand. “But not forgotten.”

Viktor took the bottle from Yuuri’s hands and took a drink himself. A drop of water rolled down his lip, and Viktor stuck out his tongue to catch it. “Yuuri, you’re such a tease…”

Yuuri, who had been spacing out while staring at Viktor’s lips, jumped, then huffed, folding his arms. “And you’re a hypocrite, Viktor.”

“I have no idea what you’re-”

Viktor’s innocent reply was interrupted by a woman with a microphone striding into the room. She was holding a clipboard. Yuuri’s heart flipped over in his chest.

“Thank you for your patience,” she said. “All of the dancers here today show great promise, but as this is a highly selective panel of judges, we have cut down the auditions to five places. The fifth place award for junior dance goes to-”

The fifth place award wasn’t under Yuuri’s name. Neither was the fourth place.

But the third place award was.

Another mob of reporters descended on Yuuri, but he fought his way out, muttering noncommittal answers to all the questions fired at him. “Sorry, I have to go, sorry…”

Viktor was waiting at the car, a reproachful look on his face. “Yuuri, I know you’re camera-shy, but brushing off the reporters will eventually give you a bad reputation.”

Yuuri said nothing, climbing into the car. He didn’t have the energy to lie to Viktor again.

“Yuuri, please,” Viktor said. “What’s wrong? Can I help?”

“No, there’s nothing you can do.” Yuuri kept his voice quiet and stared at his hands.

“As your coach, I want to see you succeed.” Viktor’s voice softened. “But I also want to see you happy. Your scoresheet shows high marks, Yuuri, but both of them have a consistent remark…”

“What remark?” Yuuri asked wearily.

“You are lacking in emotion,” said Viktor. “You’re disconnected from the music. Your dancing is beautiful, they said both times, but it’s like you’re a million miles away.”

 

Before he knew what was happening, Yuuri was sobbing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what, guys? I went ice skating today! Only lasted about 45 minutes, but it was a really cool experience! I went from certifiable wall-hugger to being able to skate clear across the rink without losing my balance that much. I only fell three or four times, but now I have a huge bruise on my knee. Anyways, I had a lot of fun, and it was good writer's research for writing Yuri On Ice fanfiction!
> 
> P.S. I listened to one of the new songs from episode 7 while writing this. It is so good, and so emotional!  
> Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44evmCy40JM&index=8&list=PLNgyazNfUrVUPVkW6fGGdqG0_6NIlEWZu


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri breaks down and confesses. (Not his love, you guys. Be patient.)

“Yuuri!” Viktor leaned across the car and grabbed Yuuri’s hand. “Yuuri, what’s wrong?”

Glancing up, Yuuri saw several people with cameras lurking near the entrance of the building. One seemed to be looking their way…

“C-can you…” Yuuri sniffed, trying to hold back his tears. “Can you pl-please drive us s-somewhere where there a-aren’t as m-many… people…?”

“Yes, of course, Yuuri.” Viktor started his car and put it in reverse without letting go of Yuuri’s hand. “Of course I can.”

They drove for a few minutes, not speaking. Yuuri kept trying to stop himself from crying, but it didn’t really work. By the time Viktor pulled onto a back road and stopped the car, Yuuri’s lap and hands were dotted with tears.

Viktor took his keys from the ignition and turned completely in his seat to face Yuuri. “Yuuri… what’s all this about?”

Yuuri cringed and squeezed his eyes shut. A few tears landed on top of Viktor’s hand, laid over his. “I’m… I’m… so sorry, V-Viktor…”

“Why are you apologizing, Yuuri? Is this about the routine-”

“It’s not about the routine!” Yuuri covered his face with his hands.

Viktor didn’t say anything, letting Yuuri cry. As soon as Yuuri calmed down a little, Viktor pulled some tissues from a compartment near his leg and handed them to Yuuri.

Yuuri blew his nose.

“Now, what’s got you so upset?”

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri balled up the tissue in his fist. “I… haven’t been telling you the truth…” he said so softly Viktor had to lean in to hear.

“What do you mean by that?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri stared down at his hands. “My… my parents.”

Viktor said nothing. Yuuri couldn’t tell whether he was angry, or confused, or what, but he pressed on. He had to come clean.

“M-my… my mother.” A wave of fresh tears dripped onto Yuuri’s pant legs. “She… doesn’t know about… any of… any of this.”

“You haven’t told her? But… why?”

“Sh-she d-doesn’t approve…!” Yuuri’s shoulders trembled. “She never approved of my dancing. I… I’ve been keeping it a secret…”

“Are you sure she wouldn’t approve?” Viktor’s voice was so gentle. “She might surprise you.”

“Viktor, I am positive she would force me to stop!” Yuuri, at last, looked up at Viktor, vision blurry with tears. He looked down quickly, though. “I’m… so sorry. I’m sorry I lied.”

“Eh, you never lied, only… left out a few things.”

Yuuri blinked. “Huh? You aren’t… angry at me…?”

  
“Oh, Yuuri, of course not…” Viktor reclaimed Yuuri’s hands, twining their fingers together. “I do wish that you’d told me sooner. You shouldn’t bear that burden all by yourself.”

  
“I was afraid that if I told you I needed to hide this from my parents, you wouldn’t want to coach me,” Yuuri confessed.

“All I can say is… you can’t hide it forever.” Viktor’s hand tightened around Yuuri’s. “They’re your parents. They will find out eventually, like it or not.”

“I… I know…” Yuuri sighed. “It’s… so hard to lie. And to do well in school on top of everything else…”

“I know a lot about balancing schoolwork and dance!” Viktor said cheerfully. “It’s pretty tough, isn’t it?”

“A little bit…”

Viktor laughed. “Oh, Yuuri, you’re such a good sport. I’m surprised you’re holding up as well as you are.”

“I’m glad you’re not angry at me,” Yuuri murmured. “T… thank you…”

Viktor nodded, and then his demeanor shifted again. He smiled, eyebrows quirked. “What did you tell your parents when they asked where you were going this morning?”

“To school…” Yuuri flushed.

“Won’t the school call them?”

“...forged a note…”

Viktor laughed again, throwing his head back, and started up the car. “I’d forgotten the resourcefulness of teenagers! Ah, Yuuri, you’re so funny.”

“Thanks… I think?”

“Well, it’s only noon… how about we get some lunch?”

“I’m helping pay this time!”

“Oh, you are, are you?”

“Yes, I am!”

Viktor pulled back onto the road, and Yuuri scrubbed his eyes with one sleeve, feeling better than he had in months.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The invitations come flying in, and Viktor coaxes Yuuri into an interesting competition.

Landing third place in that preliminary was, as Viktor prophesied, a door-opener for Yuuri. By the Monday following Yuuri’s breakdown, Viktor had been assaulted with all sorts of invitations to dance competitions for Yuuri. (At least, that’s what Viktor said when Yuuri came to practice that afternoon.)

“My inbox is stuffed with invitations!” is what he said, flinging his arms around Yuuri before Yuuri even had the chance to put down his backpack.

“W-well, um, wh… what kind?”

“All kinds!” Viktor disentangled himself from Yuuri and presented him with a messy stack of paper. “I printed them all out for you!”

As Yuuri shuffled through the pile, Viktor took his backpack and set it in the corner of the room. “I didn’t look at all of them, but I did see something from the Inter-State Dance Competition!”

“Yes, that one’s right here…” Yuuri skimmed the paper. “It’s about two months away, in the middle of January.”

“Perfect, we have plenty of time!” Viktor clapped his hands. “What else is there?”

“Ah…” Yuuri flipped through the papers. “Something from Newbury…”

“Small-town competition,” Viktor said immediately. “Anything that looks like it’s from a small town, scrap it. We’re trying to move forward, not backwards.”

“Alright.” Yuuri kept going. “Something right here, an ice skating competition…”

“Solo?” Viktor guessed.

“Yes,” replied Yuuri.

“Scrap it,” Viktor said. “I know you’re a good skater, but we should keep focused on dance, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds okay to me…” Yuuri was getting near the end. “Small town, small town… oh!”

“What is it?” Viktor was suddenly at Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri tried not to flinch.

“A statewide ice dancing showcase,” Yuuri said, handing the paper to Viktor.

Viktor scanned the paper, and his eyes lit up. “Yuuri, it’s partnered! We can perform together!”

“B-but, I th-thought…”

Waving a hand, Viktor continued. “This is on a state level, and it’s less of a competition and more of a publicity booster. Besides, it’ll be lots of fun! It’s been years since I’ve had a real partner… or ice danced, for that matter.”

“I’ve never even- What even is ice dancing?”

“It’s like dancing, but on ice,” Viktor said. “And in synch with a partner.”

“That sounds…”

“Amazing, right?” Viktor grasped Yuuri’s hand, and Yuuri almost dropped the emails. “Oh, Yuuri, I’m sure you’ll be a natural. It’s for fun, and it will help with your dancing! You trust me, right?”

Yuuri hesitated for the barest of moments before nodding.

“This will be so much fun!”

Yuuri really hoped so…

~

“Come on, Yuuri, you know this,” Viktor said.

“S-sorry, I’m not as comfortable on t-the ice as you are…”

“No, it’s that you’re not as _confident_ on the ice!” Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and set it on his shoulder.

“Keep your hand on me, right here, and follow my lead,” he said, smile dazzling. “But just because I’m the leader, doesn’t mean you always have to follow.”

“Wh… what does that even m-mean…?”

“You’re a star, Yuuri,” Viktor purred. “Show the crowd. Show _me_.”

“Th-there’s not even a c-crowd h…” Yuuri gulped as Viktor leaned in closer.

“ _Yuu_ ri,” Viktor pouted, looking at Yuuri through half-lidded eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Said Yuuri was feeling extremely wobbly, and it wasn’t all the ice…

Although the ice was a significant factor to his ungraceful tumble. Yuuri quickly stepped back, and before he knew what happened he was flat on his back.

“Yuuri!” Viktor knelt by his head. “Yuuri, are you alright? That was quite a fall!”

“Sorry,” Yuuri said, sitting up and standing, cold soaking through his pants and gloves. He winced as his back twinged. Seeing Viktor’s concerned face, Yuuri smiled and said hurriedly “I’m fine, I’m fine, really!”

“Alright.” Viktor skated over to the CD player that was carefully positioned on a double-railing and rewound the music. “Remember, this isn’t our final piece, Yuuri. We need to focus on becoming better partners before choosing the music. Alright?”

Yuuri _definitely_ hadn’t been staring at Viktor’s butt. “R-right,” he said, snapping to attention as Viktor turned back around after starting the track.

Taking Yuuri by the hand, Viktor tugged him to the center of the rink. “Remember, Yuuri, our piece is going to be a seduction. I usually think up the story I want to tell beforehand, and pick the music based off of that story…”

“That’s smart,” Yuuri admitted.

“And you, Yuuri, are the seducer,” Viktor reminded him, “You-” He tapped Yuuri’s chest. “Are trying to seduce me.” He tapped his own chest.

Yuuri gulped again.

“Keep that in mind,” Viktor said, and the music swelled around them.

 


	14. Extra - Hot Springs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I love you guys. Also, I wrote it after taking a bath outside.
> 
> Edit: moved this chapter from the very end to right here, to benefit any new readers! ^-^

“Ahhh… This feels amazing, Yuuri!”

“I’m glad you like it…” Yuuri let his shoulders dip under the warm water and looked at Viktor through the clouds of steam. 

In one swift movement, Viktor climbed into the springs and submerged his entire body. A second later, he surfaced, tossing back his hair and splattering the walkway with water.

“Viktor, you’re not supposed to put your head under…”

“What? That’s ridiculous! How else are you supposed to get your hair wet?”

“You’re not supposed to get your hair wet.”

“Why not?”

Yuuri dropped his gaze as Viktor got out of the water. “It can cause… overheating. You could pass out.”

“Nonsense, I do it all the time in Russia, and I’m fine!”

Water flew into Yuuri’s face, and he recoiled as Viktor plopped down next to him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Viktor asked.

“N-nowhere, you s-scared me, that’s all…”

“Thank you for bringing me here, Yuuri.” Viktor sighed and leaned back, resting against the side of the springs. “I had no clue there was a hot springs in town!”

“Well, it’s n-not public…” Yuuri fidgeted, edging away from Viktor as subtly as he could. “M-my dad used to work at the hotel here, so the owner lets me bring friends w-without paying for a room.”

Viktor didn’t reply. Yuuri turned to see he was nodding off.

“H-hey!” Yuuri sat up straight and grabbed Viktor’s shoulder. “If you’re getting sleepy, we should get out!”

“But it feels so nice…” Viktor complained.

“If you faint, I might not be able to carry you out of the water!”

Viktor opened his eyes at that, and shot Yuuri a teasing smirk. “I’m sure you’d find a way…”

Yuuri dropped his hand from Viktor’s shoulder and flushed. (Which was an accomplishment, considering the humidity.)

“Come on, we should get out,” said Yuuri.

“You first.”

“No, you go first…”

“Yuuri, are you embarrassed?”

“I… I mean, a little b-bit…”

“Don’t be!” Viktor smiled.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Yuuri said under his breath.

Viktor climbed out of the springs, and Yuuri looked away again. Viktor tapped his shoulder and handed him a towel.

“Thanks,” Yuuri murmured, standing and quickly wrapping it around his waist. As he followed Viktor into the locker room, he tried to convince himself that the reason he could hear his pulse beating in his ears was because the water had been so hot. Not Viktor.

(If he was being totally honest with himself, Viktor was pretty hot. Temperature-wise? Probably less hot than the water. But physically, much more attractive…)

“Yuuri?”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” Yuuri hurried after Viktor, cursing his thoughts. There must have been something in the water.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor become more comfortable as ice dancing partners... and Viktor slips up.

Weeks passed, and Yuuri found himself settling comfortably into his routine with Viktor. They would stretch together, then skate for most of the rest of practice. Mostly, Viktor would show Yuuri ways to stay in synch with him, and Yuuri loved it. He found he loved to ice dance with Viktor. The union, the sense of one-ness… it felt amazing. And more intimate than Yuuri would admit.

Of course, Yuuri’s parents were completely in the dark. His mother asked a lot of questions, but she seemed to buy the tutoring story. Yuuri’s father never offered any questions, or much of anything, really… he quietly watched, smiled when Yuuri enthused about Viktor. (He did that sometimes. (Okay, a lot.)) Yuuri made sure to keep out all mentions of dance and skating, though.

It was a little more than a month from the competition, early December, when Viktor took a fall.

Yuuri was over at the edge of the rink, panting and drinking deeply from a water bottle. They’d been working a particularly complex step sequence, since Viktor wanted to keep synchronized jumps to a minimum because of the danger of tripping over each other. Viktor had continued on with the program, however, and when Yuuri turned around Viktor was about to launch into a triple axel, tucking his arms tight to his body…

Eyes shot wide. Yuuri saw Viktor’s foot wobble. Instead of landing gracefully on his feet, Viktor slammed onto his side. His head made a sound against the ice that made Yuuri’s chest tighten. Viktor skidded, skidded… and went still.

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathed, bottle falling from his hands. He scrambled to his mentor’s side. “Viktor,” he repeated, voice shrill, as he dropped to his knees. He grabbed Viktor’s shoulders and turned him over onto his back…

The sight of Viktor’s face, expressionless and slack, was the most terrifying thing Yuuri had seen in his life.

Yuuri ripped off one glove and felt for a pulse in Viktor’s neck. His heart only started beating again when he found it: steady and sure, as Viktor always was.

“Uhn…” Viktor’s eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Viktor?”

“Ugh… wh… what… what h…”

Shivering, Yuuri stood. He took hold of Viktor’s jacket and dragged him across the ice and onto the floor. It took some effort, but Yuuri was able to lift Viktor onto a bench. Yuuri shucked off his jacket, folded it up, and put it under Viktor’s head. Then he dashed for his cellphone and dialed-

_Who should I call?_

Not his parents, they would freak out. (Not to mention Yuuri would have a _lot_ of explaining to do.) Not any of his school friends, there’d be gossip all over the school already. (It was a miracle nobody at the high school knew about their recent wins.)

Finally, with trembling hands, Yuuri put the phone down. He went over to Viktor, who was stirring.

“How do you feel?” Yuuri asked, kneeling down next to him.

“Ugh... like I took a... hard fall.” Viktor groaned and opened one eye. “What… happened?”

“You slipped, I think.” Yuuri shivered. “I brought you off the ice.”

“You… carried me…?”

“Nothing that romantic.” said Yuuri. “More like dragged.”

Viktor opened his eyes fully and started to sit up. “We should get back to-”

Yuuri stood and pushed his shoulders back down. “Wait. Stay there, for a minute. When you can walk, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No, no, it’s f-”

“Viktor, if you say 'it’s fine' I will _kill you_ ,” Yuuri snapped. “From what I’ve seen, you probably have a concussion, maybe a pretty bad one. I’m not skating with you again until we get you checked out.”

“Right,” Viktor said, closing his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally trip again and hurt you.”

“That’s not it!” Yuuri said, hands balling into fists. “I’m worried about you!”

“I wonder if we can still do the ice dancing…”

Yuuri sighed. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

“Sure it does.” Viktor took hold of Yuuri’s hand. “Here, I feel better. I can walk.”

Grabbing his jacket off the bench, Yuuri slung Viktor’s arm over his shoulder.

Viktor leaned on Yuuri heavily, but couldn’t seem to resist a laugh. “Oh, Yuuri, aren’t we forward?”

“Viktor...!”

He just laughed.

~

“It’s a concussion, alright, but not too severe,” the doctor said, removing his stethoscope from Viktor’s chest. “How did you say he hurt himself?”

“We’re ice skaters,” Yuuri explained. “He fell on his side, and I saw him hit his head off the ice.”

The doctor nodded. “I won’t do a physical, but I’d guess that he’s got some bruising. There are arnica gels that help with that, but the best healer is time.”

“What about skating?” Viktor shifted on the examination table. “When can I get back on the ice?”

“Come back in two weeks and I’ll re-evaluate your condition.” The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Be careful, and no strenuous activity until then.”

“But-”

“The doctor is right, Viktor,” Yuuri said. “If we want to be able to perform at all, we’ve got to be careful you don’t get hurt again!”

Viktor sighed. “I suppose you’re right…”

Then, his face took on a devilish shine.

 _Oh no,_ Yuuri thought, shifting in his seat. _That face…_

The doctor left the room, muttering something about paperwork, and Viktor beckoned Yuuri towards him with one hand. Yuuri, tentatively, stepped forward.

“Yuuri.” Viktor set his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and curled his fingers, twining them together, and pulled Yuuri closer. Yuuri fought down a blush and looked away.

“Hey, _Yuuuuri_ ,” Viktor sang.

Yuuri looked up, heart pounding, and met Viktor’s eyes. The blue seemed to burn into him.

“So… how would you feel about dancing the leader’s part?”

At that point, Yuuri felt, he’d have done anything Viktor asked of him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: arnica gels are, in fact, amazing for pain relief with bruises and things like that. Not sure if they work on open skin... probably not. But if you or someone you know gets injured, go out and get some - it's a miracle-worker, swear!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri re-learn their parts of the dance, and Yuuri gets inspired.

And so Yuuri was tasked with unlearning the follower’s part of the routine, and learning the leader’s. Viktor had to stay off the ice for those two weeks, of course, but he watched and turned out to be a good oral instructor.

(Of course, it helped that Yuuri had spent so much time studying Viktor. Viktor’s moves, that is… and his body, and the emotions playing on his face as he skated to the sound of his heartbeat…)

Eventually, Viktor was allowed back on the ice, but Yuuri insisted he went slow and simplified his part of the routine.

“I hope you know that I’ve been skating since you were in grade school,” Viktor kept reminding him.

“I hope you know that the symptoms of a concussion can last for over twelve months,” Yuuri would shoot back.

~

By December 20th, exactly one month away from the Ice Dancing States, Yuuri was getting a bit more comfortable with his part. Being the leader was a lot of pressure, but being the leader for Viktor… That was equal parts terrifying and reassuring.

Viktor had learned Yuuri’s part with ease. It was relatively simple, and since so many moves were synchronized, there wasn’t a lot of new material for Viktor to learn. As soon as Viktor had stepped foot on the ice, though, Yuuri had issued an ultimatum.

“No jumps, and no lifts,” Yuuri said, folding his arms and anticipating Viktor’s objection.

“But Yuuri, I only have two jumps, and the lifts are so simple!”

“No jumps,” Yuuri repeated. “I might consider doing a lift, maybe two, if we practice it off the ice a lot beforehand.”

“Sheesh.” Viktor combed his bangs back with one hand. “You’d think I wasn’t even the coach here anymore…”

Yuuri flushed. “Th-that’s… that’s not what I-”

“Oh, and there he is again.” Viktor let his bangs fall over his eye again and smirked at Yuuri. “I was seeing if you were really cute, embarrassed Yuuri under all that.”

“All what?” Yuuri folded his arms again.

“You’ve gotten a good deal more… _dominant_ , since you started skating the leader’s part,” said Viktor. “Not that I mind. It’s refreshing.”

Yuuri was frozen for a moment, staring at Viktor, before shaking his head. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” Yuuri was looking at the furthest wall, but he could hear the smile in Viktor’s voice.

“Stop teasing me!” Yuuri felt a shift somewhere in his chest, from the heat of mortification to the heat of something else entirely. He seized Viktor’s wrists and skated backwards, to the center of the rink.

“But it’s so much _fun_ ,” Viktor said.

“It’s _distracting_ ,” Yuuri said, fishing the remote control from his back pocket and switching on the music. He realized with a start that he didn’t recognize it.

Viktor’s smirk made that heat in Yuuri’s chest flare up, and Yuuri realized Viktor had changed the music again, to throw him off-balance. To surprise him.

 _Well,_ Yuuri thought. _I can be surprising, too._

Yuuri compensated for the quicker beat of the song, and sped up the routine. He closed one hand around Viktor’s, and put the other around Viktor’s waist, pulling them together until their chests touched. And somehow, even though Viktor was several inches taller than Yuuri, it felt natural.

They separated, and Yuuri carried out his triple axel, landing it perfectly. He saw Viktor looking at him, looking, appraising, and Yuuri realized what he was feeling.

He was _angry_. And that anger didn’t burn, wasn’t vengeful, but it fueled him. Yuuri surged forward, put both hands on Viktor’s hips, and leaned forward until he was bent over Viktor at a deep angle. His right foot slid between Viktor’s feet, gave him stability, and he dipped them further.

Viktor’s cerulean eyes were wide. With surprise, maybe?

“Spin,” Yuuri murmured, and pulled Viktor straight, then extended his arm and spun him out. Instead of letting go and letting Viktor follow, as they usually did, Yuuri tightened his hand around Viktor’s and spun him back in, crossing his arms over Viktor’s chest when he ended up in front of him.

Yuuri could feel Viktor’s heartbeat through his back.

The step sequence flowed in a way it never had before. Yuuri and Viktor were completely in synch, weaving around one another, flowing freely and without inhibition.

Viktor’s new music ended early, but Yuuri continued through the last few steps, and ended with Viktor at arm’s length, feet slightly crossed.

Yuuri held Viktor’s eyes for what seemed like forever, but was probably less than five seconds.

“Yuuri…”

“Yes?”

“That was… inspired,” was all Viktor said.

“Inspired by you,” Yuuri said shyly, finally looking away.

“No, it was all you, Yuuri.” Viktor coughed into one hand. “That was…”

“Was it too much?”

Viktor smiled. “No, Yuuri.”

“Well…” Yuuri shifted. “Now what?”

“I don’t think I’m going to tell the panel that we’ve switched roles,” Viktor said.

Yuuri skated to the edge of the rink and stepped off the ice. He turned. “Viktor?”

“Hm?”

“Could you tell me when you change the music next time?”

Viktor laughed lightly. “Sure, Yuuri.”

Face flushed with a mixture of exertion, shame, and triumph, Yuuri bolted to the locker room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas chapter coming up soon! Thank you to everyone commenting and giving me love!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get snowed out of school (and practice!), but are able to exchange Christmas gifts anyways.

“Alright, Yuuri!” Viktor leaned back and stretched. Yuuri tried not to look at the sliver of exposed skin when Viktor’s shirt rode up. (He didn’t try all that hard, though.)

Viktor straightened, then winked at Yuuri, who flushed.

“Practice tomorrow as usual, but I’m giving you the rest of the week off!” Viktor said. “I expect to see you next Monday, though!”

“Wait, why are you giving me time off…?”

Viktor sighed. “Yuuri, are you really that forgetful?”

“What?”

“It’s December 22nd,” said Viktor.

“Oh… oh!” Yuuri smacked his forehead. “I totally forgot!”

“And you call _me_ an airhead.”

“I do not!”

“You think it, at least.”

  
Yuuri had no defense for that. “Well, see you at school.”

“I wish we had more classes together,” Viktor said, stepping off the ice and sitting down.

“Yes, I don’t get to see much of you in homeroom,” said Yuuri, following Viktor. “There’s always a crowd of girls around you…”

Viktor smiled at that, sat down, and started unlacing his skates. Yuuri saw him wince.

“Are you okay?”

“I have a headache,” Viktor admitted.

Yuuri wordlessly handed him his water bottle.

Viktor uncapped it and took a drink. “Thank you.”

“You’re always harping on me about staying hydrated…” Yuuri sighed, but there wasn’t any real exasperation behind it. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you don’t feel well at any time.”

“Yuuri-”

“ _Promise_ me, Viktor.”

Viktor mimicked Yuuri’s sigh, but a smile quirked his lips. “I promise.” He stood, skates in hand. “And I promise not to bring up our upcoming performance to your parents.”

“That’s honestly all I want for Christmas,” Yuuri joked.

“Well, I got you more than just deceiving your parents!”

Yuuri cringed at the jab (because it was definitely a jab, since Viktor made it clear that he didn’t approve of Yuuri keeping his budding career a secret) before realizing the full implications of what Viktor had said.

“Wait, what?”

“As your coach, I am definitely coming by your house on Christmas to give you your presents!”

“V-Viktor, you shouldn’t have-”

“Sure I should have!” Viktor picked up his gym bag. “See you tomorrow! Sleep well!”

  
Yuuri left the rink with his mind churning. There were plenty of things for him to worry about: his parents, his grades, his friends, his sleep schedule, but one thought dominated his mind.

What on earth was he going to get Viktor for Christmas?

~

Yuuri woke up at five-thirty to the familiar, awful sound of his alarm. He groaned and fumbled for his phone, pressing the snooze button. Yuuri was about to slam his phone back onto his bedside table when he noticed he had a new message.

Which was weird, because Yuuri pretty much had no friends…

 _Don’t bother getting up, Yuuri,_ it read. _It’s been snowing since midnight. I anticipate school being cancelled. Oh, and you get practice off today, too. Enjoy your day off!_

And below it, _Viktor <3_.

Yuuri tried not to read into that too much. He put his phone down and tried to go back to sleep, but thoughts of Viktor swarmed in his mind…

~

“Merry Christmas, Yuuri!” his mother said, beaming, as his father handed him a flat package wrapped in silvery paper.

Yuuri grinned. “What is it? Socks?” he teased.

“Open it!” they chorused.

“Okay, jeez!”

The paper was ripped aside to reveal-

“Oh my god!” Yuuri jumped to his feet, new laptop clutched in both hands. “Mom, Dad, thank you so much!”

“Well, since your old one bit the dust last month, we figured it’d be nice to get you a good replacement.” His mom was grinning.

“I got a great discount,” his dad admitted. “But the store assured me this model was top-of-the-line.”  
“It’s great! Thank you, oh my gosh!”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Who could that be, at this hour…?” Yuuri’s mother moved to stand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it!” Yuuri shot to his feet and ran down the hall. He skidded to a stop, nearly running headfirst into the door, and opened it.

Viktor was wearing a hat, mittens, and a bulky coat, and he was covered in snow. His eyes shone in the dim porch light.

“Hello.” His voice was music to Yuuri’s ears.

Yuuri was torn between laughter and extreme shyness. He ended up turning bright red and giggling. “Hello,” he managed.

“Merry Christmas, Yuuri” Viktor said.

“Wait here!” Yuuri said, and dashed to the kitchen. He grabbed his presents for Viktor from the counter and ran back.

Viktor was waiting on the porch, looking amused.

“S-sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, feeling like an idiot. “Please c-come in.”

“I can’t stay long,” said Viktor, closing the door behind himself. “I left my car parked in a snowdrift a few blocks away.”

“V-Viktor…!”

He laughed. “It snowed an awful lot, didn’t it? I expect you to keep up with your stretches, though.”

“Of c-course.” Yuuri was internally hitting himself at how stupid he was acting. “Here,” he said, holding out two packages towards Viktor. “Merry Christmas…”

“Same to you.” Viktor accepted them and unbuttoned the top of his jacket, pulling out a few presents. He handed them to Yuuri.

“D… d’you want to open them r-right now?”

“Why not?” Viktor tucked the smaller present into one pocket and started opening the larger.

Yuuri occupied himself opening one of the presents from Viktor, hoping his parents wouldn’t come in and… make things weird.

The paper fell away, and Yuuri was left holding a small, round object.

“It’s a stress ball,” Viktor explained, trying to pry away a piece of tape. “You squeeze it when you’re worried about something, and it helps you focus your energy.”

Yuuri squeezed it. “Thank you.”

Viktor finally got the wrapping paper off, to reveal another taped-down cardboard box. “Yuuri, there are so many _layers_ ,” he complained.

“This is the last one, I promise,” said Yuuri, smiling at his antics.

“Open the other ones!” Viktor said.

Yuuri picked up the second present, which he knew was a book. Taking off the wrapping, he read the title aloud. “ _Doctor Zhivago._ "

“His first name is Yuri, like you!” Viktor said. “Ah, finally got this thing open.” He flipped the lid up, and his eyes widened.

Then they started to twinkle. “Yuuri!”

“Don’t do that,” Yuuri said, looking away and blushing.

“But they look so yummy!” Viktor reached into the box and pulled out a cookie. “Did you make these yourself?”

“From scratch.” There was a touch of pride in Yuuri’s voice.

Viktor practically inhaled the first one, and the second. “Dear god, Yuuri, these are incredible.”

“You don’t have to say that-”

“If I didn’t say that, it would be as good as lying.” Viktor ate another one in two bites. “Op’n th’ lasht ‘ne.”

The last gift was something fabric, and soft in Yuuri’s hands. He opened it to reveal something silky and black, with white and shining blue decals.

“It’s your outfit,” Viktor said in a low voice. “Try it on later.”

Then he tucked the box of cookies into his coat and took his last present out of his pocket. “Now, what could this be…?”

“Open it,” Yuuri urged him.

Viktor did, and popped the lid of the velvet box.

“Oh, Yuuri, it’s beautiful.” Viktor lifted the necklace by its silvery chain and peered at the pendant. “What is this?”

“Rose quartz,” Yuuri said. “It’s a good luck charm.”

“Good luck, huh..” Viktor smiled and met Yuuri’s eyes. “I’ll make sure to wear it.”

“Oh, I mean… only if you w-want to…”

Viktor brushed some melting snow from his sleeve. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to keep you from your family on Christmas.” He raised his voice. “Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki!”

“Merry Christmas!” Yuuri’s dad called back.

“Merry Christmas, Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled, and blushed for the umpteenth time. “Merry Christmas, Viktor.”

“See you Monday!” Viktor pulled his mittens back on and gave a cheery wave, closing the door behind himself.

Yuuri tucked the outfit under his sweatshirt before going back into the living room.

“Was that Viktor?” his mother asked.

“Yes, he wanted to say merry Christmas, and exchange presents,” said Yuuri.

“But none of your other friends-”

“Mom, he’s, like, my only friend.”

Yuuri’s father laughed. “Oh, Yuuri, don’t be down on yourself! You have Yuuko, too!”

“She’s a childhood friend, she doesn’t count,” Yuuri muttered.

“Don’t let her hear you say that!” His mother smiled. “What did Viktor give you?”

“A novel and a stress ball,” Yuuri said.

“That’s nice…”

“I’m going to go to my room and set up my new computer!” Yuuri smiled radiantly. “Thank you, Mom! Thank you, Dad!”

Yuuri paused at the top of the stairs, hearing his mom say something to his dad.

“Is he acting odd, or is it just me?”

“It’s just you, Francine.”

Yuuri ducked into his room, a smile on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter today! A little early for Christmas, but I figured it was close enough... haha.  
> Anyways, I have a short chapter already written that's not connected to the storyline, but I'm wondering if I should write a New Year's chapter. If you'd be interested in a New Year's chapter, the little unrelated chapter, or the chapter leading into Viktor and Yuuri's ice dancing competition - please let me know!  
> Thank you all for your support!
> 
> Note: Making progress on a New Year's chapter as per request!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's New Year's Eve, and Yuuri would like nothing more than to stay home and be a hermit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra-long chapter today! I've been working on it for a while, and here it as, as per request. (Okay, one request.) Hope you enjoy!

Yuuri dumped his backpack by the door and collapsed into a chair.

“How was school, sweetie?” called his mom from the kitchen.

“Fine,” he called back.

His father looked up from his phone. “How was school _really_ , Yuuri?”

“It was okay.” Yuuri sighed and slumped further in his seat. “Yuuko invited me to a party.”

“Tonight?”

Yuuri sighed again. “Tonight.”

“Don’t act so glum about it! It _is_ a national holiday.” His dad was back to looking at his phone, but there was a smile on his face. “Maybe you should go.”

“But I really don’t want to…”

“Then don’t go,” his father suggested.

“But I have to, I can’t let Yuuko down,” Yuuri groaned.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Yuuko might kill me if I don’t show up.” Yuuri shuddered.

“I meant at the party, son.”

“I mean, I don’t know…” Yuuri stared out the opposite window. “I don’t like parties…”

“You’ve never been to one,” his dad pointed out.

“Yeah, but I’ve heard of them, and there’s all sorts of… drugs, and… stuff.”

His father laughed, setting his phone down. “Oh, Yuuri, go ahead and go to the party. It’s New Year’s Eve! Yuuko could use the company, and you could use some time out of the house.”

Yuuri realized the “drugs and sex” card hadn’t worked. He switched tactics. “I should do some studying… I have a test in a couple days.”

“Son, all you do these days is study.” His father stood up. “When does this party start?”

“Yuuko said about six-thirty… until two AM.” Yuuri was panicking, desperately wishing he hadn’t brought up the party. “That’s a little late, don’t you think?”

“I can pick you up earlier, then,” his dad said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Now, go on upstairs and get changed. You can give me directions in the car. Be back down here in twenty minutes. Okay?”

Yuuri slunk out of the room without a word, and went up to his room, fuming. He’d much rather have stayed home, watching Netflix on his new laptop, maybe with a snack and a drink. He didn’t want to… interact with people! Parties… parties were bad scenes for introverts like him…

He took out his cellphone and texted Yuuko. “Dad convinced me. Where’s the party being held?”

Her reply was like lightning. “Thank god. Thought you’d leave me hanging!” Attached was an address.

Yuuri sighed and threw open the doors of his closet. He had several school uniforms, his leotards and leggings, a few pairs of shoes, and only a little bit of casual wear. He pulled out a few pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts.

He was about to shut the doors when he caught a glimpse of folded fabric wrapped in white tissue paper…

Yuuri picked up the outfit Viktor had given him for Christmas. Letting it unfold, he saw it was basically a black skinsuit, but the top had a second layer on it, with iridescent swirls that looked alternatingly deep blue and faint silver. There were a few lines circling the waist and down the left leg in bright white.

It was gorgeous.

“Did he… make it…?” Yuuri wondered aloud.

He glanced at the clock. Still fifteen minutes before his father asked him to be downstairs.

Yuuri stripped to his boxers, unzipped the back of the skinsuit, and stepped into it. He had to shimmy his legs through, as it was relatively tight, and the arms were tight as well. But it was looser around the shoulders and hips, only slightly, enough to be helpful on the ice.

Turning to look in the mirror, Yuuri removed his glasses. He peered at himself, and though he wasn’t able to see much, he saw the shimmer on his shoulders, and how the fabric hung on his frame, and was happy with it.

“I tried it on,” he texted to Viktor in a moment of ridiculous confidence.

“Almost ready, Yuuri?” his dad called up the stairs.

As fast as he could, Yuuri got out of the costume and into the first pair of jeans he laid hands on. “Almost!” he called, wincing when his voice cracked. Yuuri pulled a blue short-sleeved shirt over his head and bolted for the steps.

~

“I’ll be here at one-thirty to pick you up,” his father said. “And text me if you want me to come earlier. Not your mother.”

“I know, Dad.” Yuuri started to close the car door, but paused and grinned at his dad. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“I know you don’t,” he replied. “Have a great time.”

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said, and headed for the front door.

Yuuko was there to meet him. “There you are! Nice pants.”

“What? What’s wrong with them?” Yuuri looked down at his jeans.

Yuuko laughed. “Oh, nothing! It’s just that I was worried you weren’t coming.”

“I told you I would…”

“Yeah, but you hate…” Yuuko waved one arm, using the other to open the front door of the house. “Y’know.”

“Talking to people I don’t know?” Yuuri offered.

“Social interaction in general,” Yuuko finished.

“That’s-”

“Accurate as hell,” she said. “Come on, it’s cold out.”

Yuuri followed his friend inside, where he was assaulted by a pounding bass and the chatter of hundreds of people crowding the halls.

“Why are there so many people!” he yelled in Yuuko’s ear.

“It’s New Year’s!” she yelled back. “And Nari Sun is the most popular girl in school!”

  
“Who?” Yuuri could barely hear himself think, let alone hear another person talk.

“Her name is-” Yuuko sighed. “Never mind! Follow me!”

She grabbed his wrist and towed him through the sea of people. Yuuri let himself be tugged along until they reached the kitchen, where he stepped back, because the kitchen was full of people making out.

One boy with spiky red hair peeked out from behind a groping couple. “You guys looking for a drink?” He was holding a can of beer in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Gimme that.” Yuuko grabbed the bottle from him, and snatched two red cups from a section of unoccupied counter. Again she grabbed Yuuri, and dragged him down the hall, releasing him next to a doorway.

“Yuuko, that was a little-”

“You’ve gotta be pushy if you wanna get something,” Yuuko said, biting her lip as she carefully balanced the cups on a table. “Especially at a party.” Expertly she poured wine into the two cups. “Want some?”

“Um-”

“I forgot you’ve never tried alcohol before,” Yuuko said matter-of-factly. “Come on, this is weak stuff. If you don’t like it, give it to me!”

Yuuri took the cup and gave the dim red liquid a dubious look. Slowly, he tipped the cup back, and took the smallest sip.

“It’s not bad, right?” Yuuko asked.

“It’s sour,” said Yuuri, making a face. “And… cherries, I think?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Yuuri huffed. “Whose party did you say this was?”

“Nari Sun!” Yuuko took another drink. “Her family is super rich. She always throws a party on New Year’s Eve, and invites lots of people. College students included.” She giggled.

“That sounds dangerous…”

“Lighten up, buttercup!” Yuuko grinned. “It’s almost the new year! Free alcohol! Lots of cuties to hit on! Nothing better.”

“I didn’t know you were a partier.”

“I’m not.” Yuuko took a deep drink from her cup. “But I know how to have a little fun once in a while.”

They stood in silence for a minute, listening to the music and the sound of voices. The hall was mostly empty.

The bass changed, became a little faster. Yuuko’s face brightened, and she plunked her empty cup down on the table. “I love this song! Come on, Yuuri, let’s see if we can squeeze onto the dance floor!”

“But-”

Yuuri didn’t really have a choice, he soon found out. Yuuko ran off, and Yuuri, after hesitating for a moment, ran after her, leaving his drink behind.

The living room was close to packed, with many bodies packed tightly together. A pop song was blasting through the huge speakers, couples were grinding and bumping, people were shouting to each other across the room, and the floor was slick with spilled alcohol.

Yuuri wished he could go home.

“You wanna dance?” Yuuko yelled.

“Not really!” Yuuri yelled back.

She shrugged, gave a quick wave, and was swallowed up by the mob of arms and legs.

Moving towards the least-crowded wall, Yuuri mumbled apologies as he knocked into people. Upon reaching the wall, Yuuri leaned back against it and cast his gaze around the room, unsure what to do.

His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket.

It took some effort to extract the device - Yuuko might have been right, those pants were awfully tight. Yuuri turned on the screen.

_Did you try it on yet?_

From Viktor.

Yuuri’s face burned.

He hastily typed in his passcode and opened up a text to reply.

_Yes, I did._

Send.

Yuuri stared at the screen, willing Viktor to answer.

Ping. _Did it fit well? I tried my best to tailor it to your measurements._

Yuuri put one hand to his mouth.

 _You sewed it yourself? That’s amazing!_ (Yuuri wanted to type more exclamation points, but he didn’t want to sound like a dork…)

_It was one of my old costumes. I repurposed it! Does it fit?_

_Yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you._

The next reply took a little longer. _Ah, but clothes are only beautiful when they are on a beautiful model. You should send me a picture._

 _I can’t right now. I’m not at home,_ Yuuri typed.

_I know._

Yuuri stared at his phone blankly.

_What do you mean, you know?_

_Look across the room. I’m wearing a brown jacket._

Slowly, slowly, Yuuri lifted his eyes from the screen, and sure enough, across the sea of dancers, was Viktor, leaning up against the opposite wall and smirking.

Yuuri just about had a heart attack.

Viktor made his way across the room, stepping around people with ease. He reached Yuuri before Yuuri had time to compose himself completely.

“Hello, Yuuri,” he said. "Nice jeans."

"P-people k-keep saying that t-to me..." Yuuri flushed, looking down, regretting wearing them at all. “W-were you… watching m-me… the wh-whole t-t-time…?!” he squeaked.

“Maybe…” Viktor slid closer to Yuuri and placed his hand on the wall. Two inches from Yuuri’s face. 

“V… Viktor…?”

Viktor laughed, and Yuuri could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Yuuri smiled, to be polite, but his spirit sagged. Viktor had only gotten this close because…

“Have you been drinking?”

“Yuuri, what kind of Russian do you take me for?” Viktor’s hand slipped, but (mercifully) instead of falling forward, he slid sideways and ended up slumped against the wall on Yuuri’s right.

“The drunk kind?” Yuuri ventured.

“For your information, I have had only two drinks in the past half-hour.”

“What did you drink?”

“Vodka.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “There you go, then.”

“Yuuri, I’ve been to so many parties in my life.” Viktor tapped Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri? Are you listening?”

“Y-yeah, I’m-”

“I’ve drank enough vodka in my life,” Viktor continued, “to build up a tolerance. It takes more than two drinks to get _me_ drunk.”

“Are you… sure?” There was a lightness in Viktor’s voice, a pinkness on his face, that wasn’t there at school or at practice.

“Alcohol loosens me up, Yuuri.” Viktor looked away from him, across the dancefloor, at some invisible point. “Some people get wild, some people get tired… I get happy.”

“I guess that’s good?”

Viktor laughed. “Did you come with a friend?”

“Yes, Yuuko, but she’s…” Yuuri gestured to the mob of dancers.

“Ah, another one lost to the crowd.” Viktor sighed theatrically and put a hand to his forehead. “I suppose you have no choice than to hang out with me, then~”

“I’d w-want to hang out w-with you any… anyways.”

On Yuuri’s last word, Viktor had snagged his sleeve.

“Want to dance?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I don’t-”

Yuuri stopped, saw the devilish look on Viktor’s face.

“Okay, fine, I dance,” Yuuri snapped, blushing. “But not… this kind.”

“Alright, whatever you want.” Viktor sighed again. “Then, can we go somewhere else? All this noise is giving me a headache.”

“Are you sure it’s not the-”

“It’s not the alcohol, I can assure you.” Viktor pulled Yuuri along, out of the living room and back into the hallway.

“Where do you want to go?” Yuuri asked.

“Wherever you want to go,” Viktor answered.

“Not upstairs.” Yuuri shifted, eyes darting. “Outside, maybe?”

“I could use some fresh air.”

“Only for a minute, though,” said Yuuri. “Winters get really cold here.”

“Winters are cold over in Russia, too,” said Viktor.

Yuuri pushed open the back door to find that, instead of a backyard, there was a large patio with glass walls. A small group of people was gathered around a flatscreen TV on the far end.

A girl turned around from the TV. Her hair was black and done up in tiny braids, and she was wearing Gothic makeup.

“Hey,” she said. “Wanna watch?”

Yuuri hesitated.

She caught the nervous look on his face and laughed. “It’s not porn or anything. We’re watching the ball drop in New York.”

“Oh, okay.” Yuuri relaxed and smiled.

“Yuuri, what does she mean?”

“I guess you don’t know about that, it’s an American thing.” Viktor was swaying, so Yuuri steered him over to a patio chair, sat him down, and took a seat next to him. “There’s this giant glass ball in New York City, and at midnight on New Year’s Eve there’s a whole ceremony…”

“Oh!” Viktor nodded absently. “We call it something different in Russian. But I know what you’re talking about.”

The girl turned around. “You can see alright?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Yuuri assured her.

“I’m Nari Sun,” she said. “Cool party, right?”

“Y-yeah,” said Yuuri.

Viktor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s my first American party, and I must say it’s been enjoyable so far. Someone in the kitchen gave me an entire bottle of vodka.”

“You s-said you only had t-two drinks!” Yuuri spluttered.

“Ah, but your cups here are so large that it only took one refill to finish most of it!” Viktor winked.

Yuuri sighed.

“Glad you’re having fun.” Nari gave Viktor an up-down glance. “You’re a transfer, right? I don’t hang out with a lot of seniors, but there’s been some buzz.”

“What kind of buzz?” Yuuri asked.

“That he’s married. That he’s rich.” Nari smirked. “That you’re screwing.”

Yuuri’s cheeks burned five shades of red.

Nari laughed and said something to one of her friends before turning back to the TV.

He moaned and covered his face with his hands.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Yuuri.” Viktor clumsily patted his shoulder. “I’ve had so many stories made up about me in the Russian news, I’m used to it now.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Viktor’s hand slid from Yuuri’s shoulder to rest on his leg. “Even though I’ve never dated anyone in my life.”

“ _Really?!_ ”

“Really!” Viktor said.

“Wow…” Yuuri fidgeted, and Viktor’s hand squeezed above his knee.

“What? You find that hard to believe?”

“W-well, I m-mean… You’re so…”

“So… what?”

“So… flirty,” Yuuri finished lamely. “And, y’know, I bet lots of girls were after you…”

“Plenty!” said Viktor. “I was never interested in having a relationship with any of them, though.”

“Five minute countdown!” someone called.

Viktor moved to stand. “I’m going to get some more-”

Yuuri stood first and grabbed Viktor’s arm. “No. No way. You’ve had enough to drink.”

“ _Yuuuuri_ , this is _nothing_ compared to-”

“Nope, no more. You need to drive yourself home tonight, right? And I don’t want you crazy hungover in homeroom tomorrow, either.”

“You make a convincing argument, Yuuri.” Viktor made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes, but he sat down again. “I suppose I have no choice.”

“Nope.” Yuuri sat as well and looked over several pairs of shoulders at the TV.

“Three minutes until the new year,” said the woman on the TV, smiling brightly into the camera. “Everyone’s getting very excited, and cold, too! We’ve got quite a turnout here in Times Square-”

“You are solid on the choreography for the ice dance, yes?”

“Of course I am,” Yuuri said, keeping his voice down. “We’ve been practicing for weeks now. I’d be ready for the competition if it was _tomorrow_.”

“I’m glad it isn’t,” Viktor said. “I do love skating with you. Even though it’s not your primary medium, you took to it well.”

“You’re a good teacher,” said Yuuri, blushing at the unexpected praise.

“No, you’ve got superb balance and control over your body,” Viktor countered. Yuuri was entranced by the shine in his eyes, the blush on his cheeks. “You learned how to learn a triple axel in less than a month.”

“It’s not that bad, there are only two jumps,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, shut up and let me compliment you, okay?”

“One minute!” Nari yelled, and her friends cheered.

She turned. “You guys want glasses, to toast?”

“Sure!” Viktor said brightly before Yuuri could object.

Two red cups were thrust into Yuuri’s hands.

“I’m sure this would have been much classier in Russia,” Yuuri said, passing one cup to Viktor and taking a sniff of his own. He wrinkled his nose.

“It’s no champagne flute,” Viktor said, grinning, “but it’ll have to do.”

Suddenly, he stood. “Yuuri, will you come outside with me. I’m feeling a bit off…”

“Don’t overwork yourself!” Yuuri jumped to his feet and followed Viktor to the porch door.

“Hurry back!” yelled a junior from in front of the television. “It’s cold as balls out there!”

“We will!” Viktor called back, and opened the door.

The junior was right: it _was_ cold. _Very_ cold. Yuuri’s teeth began to chatter immediately.

“V-Viktor, l-let me k-know when y-you want t-to g-go back in…” he said, trying not to let on how cold he was.

Viktor had his head tipped back, and was staring at the sky. “It’s beautiful. The stars look different in America.”

“You’re d-drunk,” Yuuri admonished.

“Twenty seconds!” he heard dimly.

“We sh-should go back i-in, we’ll miss the c-countd-down…”

Viktor sighed. “Maybe… maybe not.”

 

Yuuri stared at him, eyebrows drawing together. “Vikt-”

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven-”

 

Viktor’s eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, and his gaze was laser-focused on Yuuri. Something settled in the air, heavy and electric.

“-four, three, two-”

 

And it happened all at once: Viktor dropped his cup and surged forward, Yuuri anticipated it, only barely, and opened his arms, letting his own drink fall to the ground; Viktor’s eyes inches away, his hands burning into Yuuri’s shoulders, thumbs brushing his neck, Yuuri’s own hands grasping Viktor’s hips, losing his breath, brown eyes fixed on Viktor’s lips-

They crashed together, lips colliding, meeting, holding onto each other. The cold evaporated, and the stars and the night vanished. It felt natural as breathing; Yuuri closed his eyes, sighed through his nose, because it was _right_.

  
The house erupted with cheers.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri make things official, and spend the 19th practicing and flirting.

Homeroom on New Year’s day was awkward… to say the least.

Yuuri had debated feigning illness, but decided against it. He’d purposefully made himself late to school and ducked into homeroom at the last minute. Ms. Moreau shot him an annoyed look, but Yuuri was far more occupied with finding and avoiding Viktor.

Viktor spotted him immediately. His face lit up, and he waved wildly. “Yuuri! Over here!”

There was _no way_ Yuuri could pretend he didn’t see or hear that. Eyes trained on the floor, he went over and sat down in the chair next to him.

“How did you sleep?” Viktor’s hand ghosted over the back of Yuuri’s arm. “Are you ready for practice?”

“Yes,” Yuuri murmured. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Hungover, naturally, but I’m used to the feeling.” Viktor patted Yuuri’s hand. “Did you do the homework for Calculus?”

“Yeah, I did it on Friday.” Yuuri relaxed a little, sensing Viktor moving back to more comfortable topics.

“Can you help me, then? At lunch?”

“Sure, we can meet in the library,” said Yuuri, finally looking up and meeting Viktor’s eyes. A thrill shot down his spine.

“There you are.” Viktor’s smile was soft. “Are you alright?”

“Of… of c-course I am.” Yuuri started to look away again, but Viktor put one hand on the side of his neck.

Yuuri stilled.

“Yuuri… are you… upset? At me?”

Something in Viktor’s voice was unnaturally vulnerable, and Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

Yuuri reddened. “That’s… that’s not it…”

“Then what? What’s wrong? Are you… ashamed of me?”

“No! I…”

“Yuuri… last night… did I go too far…?”

“No, it’s just that…” Yuuri forced himself to meet Viktor’s eyes, and was shocked to see a sort of sadness there.

“Last night was… incredible. I… I don’t regret any of it.” Yuuri paused. “I… did you… mean to do it?”

“Do what?”

Yuuri’s eyes shot wide. Did he-

“Sorry, sorry, I was teasing.” Viktor winced. “It was in poor taste, I see. Sorry, Yuuri.”

“It’s fine, whatever.” Yuuri brushed it off. “But I’m serious… did you only… kiss me… did you only kiss me because you were… drunk?”

“I told you I wasn’t-”

“Viktor.”

“Alright, fine, maybe a little bit.” Viktor smiled sheepishly. “But that wasn’t the reason why. I… I kissed you because I wanted to.”

Yuuri hesitated. “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“So… does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?”

Yuuri had to use incredible self-control to keep from collapsing into a stammering mess. “I mean. Um. If you… if you want me to be your boyfriend, I’d-”

“Yuuri, will you go out with me?”

“The first kiss usually doesn’t come until after the first date, you know,” Yuuri teased him.

“Oh, you’re going to make me work for it, hmm?” Viktor grinned wickedly. “Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?”

Yuuri tapped his chin with one finger. “I don’t know…”

Viktor looked at him, one eyebrow quirked.

Yuuri eventually smiled - he couldn’t help it. “Viktor, I have everything I want right now. Being your boyfriend is reward enough.”

“You sap!” Viktor exclaimed, drawing stares from the rest of the homeroom.

“Keep your voice down!” Yuuri blushed.

Viktor lowered his voice, leaned a little closer. “Do you want to stay private, or go public?”

“I, uhm… I…”

“It’s okay if you want to keep us a secret for now.” Viktor winked, and Yuuri’s heart flipped over in his chest. “I think I’d like to keep you all to myself for a while.”

“I’d like that, too,” said Yuuri with much more confidence then he felt.

The bell rang, and they both jumped.

“See you at lunch,” Viktor said, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, and he was gone, leaving Yuuri drowning in his wake.

 

~

 

The days flew by, and Yuuri and Viktor worked on perfecting their performance. For kicks, Viktor threw in an extra thirty seconds of routine, and lengthened their accompaniment from a shortened version to one closer to the original. Yuuri had to admit that running the same routine every day was getting tedious, so he wasn't too upset about it.

It was January 19th, one day before the competition, and Yuuri was getting nervous. It was showing.

“Yuuri, careful,” Viktor said as Yuuri fell from his double Salchow for the third time.

“I know, I know, sorry,” Yuuri muttered, pushing himself up with gloved hands.

“If you don’t watch out, you’ll be too sore to skate tomorrow.” Viktor clapped his hands, and the sound echoed across the room. “Let’s take a break.”

Yuuri went for his water bottle, and Viktor followed him. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes, Viktor, I know all of-”

“I meant with your parents. What are you telling them?”

“Oh. That.” Yuuri heaved a sigh. “Field trip.”

“You know, they could call the school-”

“I know that!” Yuuri crossed his arms, fingers digging into his biceps.

“Yuuri.”

“It’ll be fine,” Yuuri said. “They won’t find out.”

“Yuuri…” Viktor’s hand lingered on his arm. “It’s only a matter of time…”

“I… I just…” Yuuri turned into Viktor, leaning his forehead against his shoulder.

Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist. “Take all the time you need,” he said into Yuuri’s hair. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what happens.”

Yuuri looked up, meeting those blue eyes. “Viktor…”

Viktor’s lips curved.

Yuuri closed his eyes…

...and Viktor let go of Yuuri and skated backwards. Yuuri had to windmill his arms to regain his balance.

“You… you tease!” he squawked.

“Mm, I prefer the term…” Viktor’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared pensively at the ceiling, before breaking into a grin and looking back to Yuuri. “Actually, that’s about right. Now, let’s do it one more time, from the top…”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make this the beginning of the chapter where Yuuri and Viktor actually did their routine in Ice Dancing States, but I felt bad that I hadn't put out a chapter in a while, so here's a teaser before the actual competition.
> 
> (In case anyone's wondering, no, this competition won't be the end of the story, just like Viktuuri becoming canon wasn't the end of the anime. Yuuri's still got time before I-S, and then Nationals, if he can hack it!)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor perform at the States showcase.

Morning on January 20th started at 3 AM for Yuuri. He hadn’t slept well at all, but was extra careful not to make a sound as he moved around his room. It wasn’t like he had much to carry: his backpack with a folder of study materials he probably wouldn’t look at, his wallet, his costume, a set of headphones, and two candy bars. He checked and double-checked that he had everything before creeping downstairs.

Holding his breath, Yuuri unlocked the front door. The click sounded like a bang in his ears.

Nobody in his house stirred.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Yuuri locked the door behind him and, shoving his hands in his pockets, began the eight-block walk to the studio.

Halfway there, a grey car pulled up next to him.

Thoughts traveling straight to rapists and kidnappers, Yuuri jumped back.

One of the windows rolled down, revealing Viktor’s smiling face. “Hi, Yuuri! Ready to go?”

“H-how did you know wh-where I was?” Yuuri tried to control his stammer, telling himself it was from the cold.

“I guessed!” The corners of Viktor’s mouth turned down as Yuuri buckled his seatbelt. "Didn't I ask you to sleep in? This is _not_ sleeping in!”

“I couldn’t sleep!”

“Did you even try?”

“Yes!”

“Well, sleep now,” ordered Viktor. “We’ve got a two-hour drive ahead of us. You should take a nap.”

The car swerved slightly, and Yuuri looked over to see Viktor was taking off his coat again.

“Oh, no, it’s o-”

“Yuuri.” Viktor pushed the coat at him. “Sleep. Please.”

The jacket smelled the same as Yuuri remembered.

“Wake me up if you want me to drive,” Yuuri said, carefully folding the wool coat into a pillow.

“Do you have your driver’s license with you?”

“Yes, I do,” Yuuri lied. “And even if I didn’t, your health is more important.”

Viktor’s laugh was musical. “Go to sleep, _moya lyubov_.”

 _What does that mean?_ Yuuri wondered, eyes sliding shut. _Anyway, I won’t fall asleep-_

He fell asleep.

~

Yuuri and Viktor stayed to watch several of the ice dancing performances, but Yuuri was too wound up to pay much attention. Finally, it was nearly their turn, and Viktor and Yuuri headed for the locker room.

The change into their costumes was a blur. Yuuri was too nervous to even worry about the possibility of Viktor seeing him mostly naked.

He did get a bit flustered when Viktor put a hand flat on his back, though.

“Yuuri, calm down,” he said. “I can hear your heartbeat from over here.”

“Your hands are cold,” is all Yuuri could say.

Viktor’s smile was rueful. “Sorry.” He paused. “Are you ready?”

Yuuri took a deep, shaky breath. “Yes.”

“Next we have Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki,” proclaimed the announcer. “One of the few same-sex couples this year, they are skating to an arrangement of “Longing Love” by George Winston. An odd choice for an ice dancing routine, but we’re told that Katsuki has a soft spot for Winston’s works, which is why Nikiforov selected the piece.”

“We’ve received news from the judges that Nikiforov will be skating the leader’s part, and Katsuki will be skating the follower’s,” said the second announcer.

Yuuri, overhearing the commentary, couldn’t keep a small smile off his face as he stepped onto the ice. He skated to the center of the rink and, as he’d promised, waited for Viktor to emerge.

“No peeking!” Viktor had said, ducking behind another row of lockers. “It’s bad luck to see the dress before the wedding!”

“I t-think you m-might have mixed th-that metaphor-”

Yuuri had given up, but went along with Viktor’s idea - neither of them would see the other in costume until the seconds before their performance. He was starting to get cold feet, though, and it wasn’t because he was standing on ice…

But when Viktor stepped from the locker room, Yuuri’s regrets vanished.

Viktor looked like a spirit, some sort of apparition, delicate and breakable. His skin was like porcelain, and his short hair nearly floated behind him. His costume clung to the lines of his body, and shining fabric was draped across his shoulders. Thin tendrils of material wound down his abdomen and formed a lattice around his waist.

He looked like an angel.

Yuuri couldn’t stop staring as Viktor stepped on the ice. A hush settled over the room.

Viktor skated, legs stretching behind him. He moved with the grace of a bird on the water.

“You look marvelous,” Viktor said, laying his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I’m glad I repurposed this costume.”

He shivered at Viktor’s touch. “You wore this?” Yuuri asked, voice soft.

The commentators were addressing the audience, but their voices were white noise to Yuuri.

“Yes,” Viktor replied. “In a ballet competition in Russia. It looks marvelous on you, Yuuri. You look like a demon.”

“Is that a good thing?”

The beginning strains of their song.

“Yes, very.” Viktor’s eyes were bright.

Yuuri rested his hands on Viktor’s hips as the piano flowed across the ice, and they fell into their familiar routine, easily as ever.

 

“W-well, Yuuri Katsuki has taken the leader’s part,” stammered one commentator. “Their accompaniment is a version of “Longing Love” by George Winston. The only comment we have received on the theme was from Nikiforov, who said it was symbolic of the battle between light and dark, and their longing to make peace with one another.”

“From the movements of these two on the ice, I’d say their longing is more for love than for peace.”

“Yes, indeed, Katsuki is shaping up to be a great skater… entering into the triple axel… and he nailed it!”

“I’ve noticed that they’ve spent most of the routine at arm’s length. Do you think that’s because of the theme?”

“Could be, could be… I wonder why Nikiforov chose to take the follower’s part. We’ll have to ask him after the results are announced.

“Into their step sequence now - nice flow, good positioning. Katsuki’s spun Nikiforov.. out, back in. Flawless! These two work well together, very well. Stationary lift… Katsuki is stronger than he looks, that’s for sure. The lift itself was relatively low, but it will still score well…”

“For our new viewers, these ice dancing programs will be scored based on a modified version of the ISU judging system… since we are not a certified event, this is not a qualifier for-”

“Good lord, the music is peaking and they’ve gone into a death spin! This wasn’t part of their original program - one thing’s certain, these two never fail to surprise us!”

The song ended, final chord echoing in the large room. Yuuri was bent over Viktor, a pose reminiscent of their first position in the dance.

Viktor’s eyes were shining, and he was smiling. Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back, giddiness rushing in his blood.

They straightened and waved to the cheering crowd, and skated off the ice hand-in-hand to the small kiss-and-cry. Yuuri sat down on the bench and jumped as Viktor put his hand on Yuuri’s thigh.

“Unlike larger competitions, this States showcase only scores a single routine, instead of a short and free dance. The length of the routines makes the scoring closer to a free dance,” explained a news commentator from their left. “Mr. Nikiforov, Mr. Katsuki, how do you feel about your score?”

“However well we do, I’m glad I was able to do this routine with Yuuri!” Viktor put his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“The scores are in: Katsuki and Nikiforov scored 49.50 for technical and 53.83 for component and no deductions, giving them a combined score of 103.33! That puts them in second place in today's rankings!”

Viktor squeezed Yuuri as hard as he could. “That was amazing, Yuuri! Wonderful, well done!”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Yuuri whispered, and buried his face in the crook of Viktor’s neck.

He heard the sound of camera shutters clicking, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Viktor was patting his shoulder, his heart was pounding.

Yuuri smiled against Viktor’s skin.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor received a letter from the Inter-State Dance Committee, and went out for coffee. (Yuuri tried not to think about is as a date or anything.)

“I’ve noticed that your balance has improved since we performed in States,” Viktor said.

“Training on the ice was… rewarding,” said Yuuri. “Working with you helped me, too.”

“All I know is that we won second place in States, and that you can now do a triple axel on and off the ice!” Viktor clapped his hands. “Alright, we nailed the Ice Dancing States, and your dance has improved as a result. Now, we work for the Inter-State Dance Competition.”

“Have we even been invited yet?” Yuuri put the front of his foot onto the barre and leaned into a stretch.

“I sent them a request,” Viktor said. “If they’re interested, they’ll choose to invite us. The preliminaries simply prove that we’re serious.”

“So, it’s out of our hands?”

Viktor laughed. “Yuuri, if they’ve been paying any attention to us at all, we’re almost guaranteed a spot. Besides, it’s not until mid-March, so we have plenty of time.”

“You know what else we have mid-March? SATs!”

“Hm, you’re right.” Viktor sighed. “I _have_ been pushing practice, haven’t I? We should study together, Yuuri.”

“That would make sense, since my parents think you’re tutoring me.”

Viktor puffed out his cheeks. “Yuuri…”

Yuuri sighed. “I know, I know, it’s just-”

“Well, I’ll tutor you, then!” Viktor put his hands on his hips. “I can be your mentor both physically and academically!”

“I don’t doubt it…” Yuuri gulped.

“Don’t worry, Yuuri! I’ll go easy on you.”

(He didn’t. Yuuri decided by the beginning of February that Viktor might have been better off as a dance coach, because as a tutor, he was positively _brutal_.)

~

The email from the Inter-State Dance Committee came February 13th.

" _Dear Mr. Nikiforov_ ,” Viktor read aloud as Yuuri stretched on the barre. “ _We have reviewed your request and are pleased to inform you that your student Yuuri Katsuki now has a spot in the Inter-State Dance Competition. As you know, the I-S Competition is the qualifier for the National Dance Finals, so we expect a polished and professional performance. Regards, the Committee._

“You did it, Yuuri! You’re in!”

“Thanks to you,” Yuuri said modestly.

“Well, yes, but also thanks to your own hard work and talent.”

Yuuri blushed. “So, uhm, what’s the criteria for my performance?”

“I’ve never competed in the I-S, but I did some reading up…” Viktor waved a sheaf of paper. “From what I’ve gathered, there are several different genres, all solo… you’re encouraged to compete in your strongest area, but if you advance you can enter any of the categories in Nationals.”

Viktor paused and wiggled his eyebrows at Yuuri. “ _Including_ partner routines. So that’s _extra_ incentive for you to do well~”

Yuuri decided not to respond to that. (He didn’t want to say anything incriminating.)

“There are three categories: contemporary, classical, and tap. Ballet falls under classical, so that’s where you’ll be.” Viktor put his hands on his hips. “We might be able to build on one of your routines.”

“W-wait, you mean… the ones I used before you became my coach?”

“Yes, there is one in particular I took a liking to, and it’s about the right length…” Viktor went over to the stereo and started sorting through Yuuri’s pile of CDs. “I can’t quite remember what song you used, though.”

Yuuri bent over and touched his toes, then stiffened as something occurred to him. “Viktor…?”

“Yes?”

“I… you only ever saw half of one of my routines,” Yuuri said. “So… how do you know that I had multiple, before I started dancing under you?”

Viktor’s expression became somewhat sheepish. “Ah… about that… I… might have… looked in on one of your practices.”

“ _What!?”_

“Well, the woman at the front desk… Mrs. Whittaker, right? I, ah, came here once before, seeing as Bailey’s is the only dance studio in town. I wanted to see the room for myself… She… told me somebody was practicing there, that I should go in and talk to you, look around the room. But I…”

Yuuri felt like he was going into shock. He stared at Viktor in disbelief.

Viktor actually looked away, bringing one hand up to partially cover his face.

“I saw your routine… The positions, first through fifth, and then…” Viktor coughed. “I… couldn’t bring myself to look away. Or disturb you. So I watched, and then… I left.”

“Y-you… didn’t even… You n-never said a-anything!” Yuuri covered his burning face with both hands, peeking at Viktor through his fingers.

Viktor looked back to Yuuri, hand lowering slightly. Was he… blushing?

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“That’s not true,” Yuuri said immediately. He shook his head as if trying to dispel his embarrassment. “Why didn’t you talk to me…?”

Finally, Viktor threw up his hands. “I was… I was shocked, alright?! You… you stunned me! I didn’t know what to do!!”

“Wh… what? Why…?”

Viktor _was_ blushing, Yuuri realized, and that realization made him feel much less embarrassed and much more… something.

“I… I suppose it’s because you, ah, reminded me of myself… when I was younger.” Viktor was back to covering the bottom half of his face and staring at the wall.

“The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew…”

Viktor was silent for a moment, and Yuuri started to get nervous.

“Knew what?”

“Knew… I had to become your coach!” Viktor grinned, and the serious mood was broken. “You have so much potential! It would be a total waste for it to go untapped!”

“Sure, fine.” Yuuri wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. He shrugged it off. “Fine. So, you liked that routine?”

“Yes, it showed your skills and knowledge about ballet, and it showcased your attributes.”

“Attributes?”

“Your talent, your passion… your legs.”

“My _what_?”

“Joke, that was a joke!” Viktor ran a hand through his hair. “What, I’m not allowed to compliment my boyfriend?”

Yuuri’s face went red at the word 'boyfriend.'

“How much homework do you have tonight?”

“Um, a fair amount… we have a research paper due for American History tomorrow, remember?”

Viktor winced. “I forgot.”

“If you text me, we can compare our theses.” Yuuri paused. “That’s the term, right?”

“Thesises?” Viktor ventured.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s-”

“Either way, we should wrap up early today, so we can go home and get our work done.” Viktor clapped his hands. “Alright, show me your routine, the whole thing.”

“Dying to see it?” Yuuri teased, pulling on his ballet slippers.

“Honestly?"

"Mm hm."

_"Yes!"_

“It’s that one,” Yuuri said, pointing to the CD Viktor was holding in one hand.

“Ah, okay.” Viktor put it in the player, and his hand hovered over the play button. “You’re ready?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said.

The piano began to play, and Yuuri took a deep breath - another, and another. He closed his eyes, and let himself fall into the familiar sensations of his routine.

The movements were simple - graceful, in long stretches, and Yuuri’s body knew every move. Suddenly, the music peaked, and Yuuri knew the routine was nearly over. Up on the toes for a moment, and into a high arabesque… a demi-pointe pirouette… and the music stopped.

“That was beautiful, Yuuri!” Viktor said. “All we need to do is alter a few moves, and you’ll be all set criteria-wise. There are a few things you can improve-”

Yuuri sighed, and let his arms relax. He was still jittery from before, when Viktor admitted he’d met Yuuri without Yuuri even knowing it. And he’d seen his routine, which wasn’t even-

“Yuuri! Are you paying attention?”

“Sorry, sorry!”

Viktor looked like he was trying to glower, but he ended up smiling. “It’s only four-thirty. Let me get you some coffee, and I’ll drop you off at home.”

“Thanks!” Yuuri wasn’t big on caffeinated drinks, but at that moment an energy boost sounded heavenly.

The drive to the nearest cafe took a matter of minutes. Viktor put on the radio and hummed along, off-key, to a peppy pop song. Yuuri thought it was cute when his voice cracked, and he covered his mouth to hide his smile.

“What?” Viktor asked, more than a little defensively, as he parked his car.

“Nothing, it’s nothing!”

“You’re laughing at my musical skills, aren’t you?” Viktor sighed. “It’s my weak point.”

“I didn’t expect it, is all.” Yuuri zipped up his jacket and stepped out into the cold. “The amazing Viktor Nikiforov, renowned dancer, has trouble singing."

“You think I’m amazing?” 

“Th-that’s-”

“Aww, I’m touched!” Viktor grabbed onto Yuuri’s arm. “Come on, let’s hurry. I don’t want to get you home late!”

Yuuri closed his hands around two coffee cups as they slid across the counter. The waitress winked at him.

“Keep an eye on that one,” she said. “He’s a looker.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Yuuri said cheerfully, ignoring the pang of anxiety that rang out in his chest.

“Mm, thank you.” Viktor took a long sip of the scalding drink. “Are you ready to go home?”

“I guess.”

(He wasn’t.)

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri tricks his parents into thinking he has friends other than Yuuko, and Viktor shares some personal music selections for I-S. (You'll never guess who the soprano in 'On Love: Agape' is!)

The date for the Inter-State competition was set in late March. Yuuri spent most of March formulating an intricate, flawless routine, and an intricate, flawless story for why he was going to be gone all weekend… and freaking out about SATs.

“So, Mom. One of my friends invited me to stay over this weekend.”

His mother looked up from her novel and squinted. “What? All weekend?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri folded his hands behind his back. “It’d be a sleepover-type thing, overnight Friday and Saturday, and home Sunday night.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” his father chimed in. “You’ve been shut in so much these days, leaving the house for school and tutoring and nothing else. Well, honey?”

“A whole weekend is a bit excessive…”

Yuuri was slow to defend his cause, so his father came to the rescue.

“Oh, hon, Yuuri’s an adult now, you know! He should be able to hang out with his friends if he wants to.”

“Well, alright, as long as you study for SATs and do well on them next week.”

And that was that - Yuuri was safe.

“Hi, Yuuri!” Mrs. Whittaker looked up from a pile of paperwork. “Viktor’s in the back. He said he was waiting for you. How have you been?”

“Busy,” Yuuri said, trying not to drop his backpack.

“I bet,” she replied. “I saw your ice dancing routine on Youtube. It was marvelous. Good luck with the Inter-States competition!”

“Viktor told you?”

“You betcha.” Mrs. Whittaker clicked her pen a few times. “Go on, get to practice. I’ll keep the triplets out of your hair.”

Yuuri went through the door and down the hall, and as soon as he stepped into the studio-

“I’ve picked the music for your routine!” Viktor said as a way of greeting.

“Huh?” Yuuri put down his backpack, then snapped to attention. “Oh! What is it?”

“A friend of mine composed it and mailed it to me,” Viktor said, waving a CD case. “It’s very good, the perfect length. Would you like to listen to it?”

“Well, yeah…”

“My, my, so sassy.” 

“Sorry, it’s-”

“Yuuri,” Viktor interrupted. “I’m only teasing.”

“Sor-”

“Stop apologizing.”

Yuuri clamped his mouth shut.

Viktor put the CD into the stereo and pressed play, and a peppy synth started to play. Yuuri listened, starting to smile, eyebrows creeping towards each other. How on earth… was Viktor expecting him to dance to this…?

“Well? What do you think?”

“Isn’t it a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“Um… fast?”

Viktor cocked his head.

“How am I supposed to perform a ballet routine to that?”

“Hmm, you’re right, it could be tricky.” Viktor sighed, then perked up. “My friend, he also included an alternate version. Would you like to hear it?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said.

The second version of the song was much slower, and had an ethereal feel to it. There was a voice singing along, possibly a young boy’s. 

“It’s beautiful,” Yuuri said once the track had finished.

“Isn’t it?” Viktor smiled. “I know the singer.”

“Oh! Whoever it is, they have a lovely voice…”

“Do you remember that young prodigy I told you about, the other Yuri I know?”

“Yes…?”

“That’s him!”

“W-wow, really? You said he was only eight, right?”

Viktor smiled. “My friend is one of little Yuri’s relatives. I asked him to create these tracks for me when I was low on inspiration, and he hired Yuri to do some singing.”

“He sounds like an angel,” Yuuri said.

“Don’t let him hear you say that!” Viktor laughed. “We’ve got a good chance of running into him at Nationals.”

“But Viktor, I haven’t even gotten into Nationals.”

“Yet!” Viktor wagged a finger. “And you won’t with that attitude! As far as I’m concerned, you’re as good as in already. So, which track did you like best?”

Yuuri calculated his answer for a moment before replying. “I think the second one would be easier to link my routine to, but the first one would push me out of my comfort zone…”

“Alright, let’s do the second one.”

“Viktor-”

“No, no, my mind’s made up,” Viktor said. “You link more strongly to innocent love than to sexual love, anyways.”

“Wh-what?!”

“The two tracks are both titled ‘On Love,’ but the first is ‘On Love: Eros,” meaning sexual love, and the second is ‘On Love: Agape,’ which is unconditional love.”

“Oh…” Yuuri scratched the back of his head. “I guess I’m a bit too innocent to pull off a sexual routine…”

And Viktor was suddenly in Yuuri’s face, brushing aside a strand of Yuuri’s dark hair. “On the contrary, Yuuri. I think you would perform an excellent Eros routine.”

Yuuri could barely think with Viktor in such close proximity, those hands touching his hair, those eyes boring into his-

He swallowed. “U-uhm, thank y-you.”

“And there’s that cute stammer again.” Viktor backed away, smiling to himself. 

“I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.” Yuuri folded his arms.

“It crops up when you get flustered, or when you’re lying,” Viktor said. “Or at times like now, when you’re both.”

Yuuri huffed, looking down and away from Viktor. “Stop teasing me…”

“Or what?”

“We’re not on the ice right now,” Yuuri said, tone growing in strength, “or I’d whisk you into a routine that’d stop your heart.”

“Another time, then,” said Viktor, winking. “Are you ready to run your routine?”

Hurrying to stretch out, Yuuri didn’t miss Viktor’s smirk.

“I saw that.”

“Saw what?”

Yuuri grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” Viktor asked.

“What was what?” Yuuri replied, mimicking Viktor’s earlier tone of innocence.

“You’re impossible…”

“Oh,  _ I’m _ impossible!”

“You want to fight me, Yuuri?”

“Yeah? Let’s go!”

Viktor tackled Yuuri and sent him tumbling to the floor. Of course, Viktor cradled Yuuri’s head close to his chest to prevent him from hitting it, and they ended up landing without injury. 

They tussled for a little while, giggling like children, until finally Yuuri locked his legs around Viktor’s hips.

Viktor’s eyes widened a fraction, and Yuuri smirked, lifted his hips, and flipped them over.

“You’re strong.” Viktor’s eyes were bright, and his chest was heaving. 

“I know,” Yuuri replied.

“So. Now what?”

“I should probably run my routine,” Yuuri said, dark eyes boring into Viktor’s. 

“Yes, probably.”

“I have homework to do.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And I need to be home in… one hour.”

“That’s a lot of time, isn’t it?”

They stared at each other for a long, long moment.

“Screw that!” Yuuri finally said, digging his fingers into Viktor’s ribs and making him squeal.

  
Out in the lobby, Mrs. Whittaker heard the sound of laughter, faint but full of giddy joy. A few heavy _thuds_ could also be heard. She smiled to herself and went back to her paperwork.

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys drive to New York, check into a hotel, and (somehow?) end up talking about their futures.

Yuuri’s backpack contained his ballet slippers, and his white leotard and leggings for the performance, smushed under a science textbook and an SAT study guide. He ate a hurried breakfast of two clementines and, snagging his phone from its charger, sped out the front door. “I’m off, Dad! Tell Mom I love her!”

“See you on Sunday! Be safe!” was his father’s reply.

Viktor was parked in front of Bailey’s, and Yuuri was glad, because it was freezing and the studio was locked.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Viktor said as Yuuri climbed into the car. “Are you ready?”

“Yep!”

“So… it’s a bit of a drive to New York, but-”

“New York?!”

Viktor gave Yuuri an odd look. “Yuuri, did you even read the letter?”

“You never gave me a copy!”

“Oh, you’re right!” Viktor smiled. “Sorry.”

Yuuri heaved a sigh. “Jeez… that’s… a while away…”

“It’s not that bad! Are you a good traveler?”

“I’m good at sleeping.”

Viktor laughed. “Yes, you are. So, we’ll get there at roughly five, have dinner, and turn in for the night. The competition is tomorrow, and it runs late, so we’ll leave for home Sunday morning.”

“I know  _ that  _ part…” Yuuri placed his backpack by his feet. “When do you want to switch?”

“Do you have your license?”

“Actually, yes, I do!”

“In that case, I’ll switch with you in a couple hours.”

Yuuri learned two important things on that long drive:

One, he was  _ not  _ a good traveler, but he  _ was _ good at not complaining. Or, rather, he was a decent traveler but disliked hours in the car. 

As for driving, Yuuri took a turn, and then Viktor took the wheel through lunchtime, which was when Yuuri learned thing number two: Viktor’s singing was awful, and Viktor  _ loved _ to sing.

“What’s that face for?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri was sure his face was bright red from holding back laughter, because he didn’t want to be rude. He was also kind of cringing.

“What face?” he managed to get out, then clamped his lips together when Viktor huffed and cleared his throat.

“Look, I know I’m not great-”

“Viktor,” Yuuri said, turning in his seat. “You are literally tone-deaf.”

“Yeah…” Viktor huffed again. “You could be a little nicer about it, though…”

“It’s cute,” Yuuri ventured. (It really was.)

“It’s not cute!” Viktor protested. “It’s embarrassing!”

“Why do you keep singing if it’s embarrassing?”

“Because I like singing!”

“Well, keep practicing.” Yuuri covered his smile with one hand. “You’ll get better.”

“Can  _ you  _ sing?”

“I refine my dancing much more than my singing,” Yuuri hedged.

“ _ Yuuri. _ ”

“What?”

Viktor side-eyed him and pushed out his lower lip.

“A little bit? I don’t know! For fun, by myself, when there’s nobody in the house and I’m in my bedroom… with the curtains closed… really quietly…?”

The car was completely silent for a single, horrifying moment, as Yuuri regretted every single one of his life choices.

Then, Viktor burst out laughing.

“D-don’t laugh at m-me,” Yuuri mumbled, burying his face into his hands.

“Will you sing for me, Yuuri?” Viktor asked after he’d calmed down.

“Someday, maybe…”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll sing with you!” Viktor looked out the car window. “There’s a rest stop. Let’s take a break and get a snack!”

“We’re only an hour away,” Yuuri said. “Can I drive again?”

“Sure,” Viktor said, pulling into a parking space. “I’ll look up our hotel on Maps.”

They got pretzels at the rest stop, and the last hour of driving flew by. (Mercifully, Viktor didn’t bring up singing again.) 

The hotel was small, but the lobby was neat and the woman at the front desk was smiling when they walked in. 

Viktor pulled out a credit card. “I have a reservation.”

“Last name?”

“Nikiforov.”

She typed something into her computer and smiled. “You’re all checked in, Mr. Nikiforov. If you have any concerns, feel free to call the front desk.” The woman scanned his credit card and pointed them towards the elevators.

Yuuri’s feet were dragging by the time they reached their hotel room. Viktor swiped the keycard, and Yuuri followed him inside, flopping down on one of the beds.

“Tired?” Viktor asked.

“Kinda,” Yuuri replied, not wanting to look like a wimp. “I don’t travel much.”

“I gathered as much.” Viktor sat down next to him and patted his head. “Don’t worry about it. If you go into professional dance, you’ll get used to long car rides!”

“Um…”

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice was serious. “Are you interested in professional dance? Pursuing a degree, competing, all of that?”

“Well…  _ yes. _ ” Yuuri rolled over and bumped into Viktor’s leg, and stayed there, staring past Viktor’s back and out the window. “It’s just that… my parents…”

“Yuuri, I’m no stranger to having unsupportive parents.” Viktor’s tone was uncharacteristically curt. “Delaying the inevitable will only hurt you in the end.”

Frozen, Yuuri stared at the setting sun.

“So, would you rather go to college, or take a gap year and pursue competitions?” Viktor asked, back to normal. “I chose the latter, and now I’m finishing my high school degree so I might be able to go to an American college.”

“That’s why you came to America?” Yuuri sat up. “I did wonder why you came to my school, of all places. That’s why you didn’t finish high school in Russia?”

“Well, yes.” Viktor’s smile was distant. “I got a specific sort of scholarship and took advantage of it, since my only income is from winning competitions.”

“I think I’d like to take a gap year,” Yuuri said slowly. “Since I’ve started working with you, I’ve seen the benefits of competitive dance. And if I…”

Yuuri swallowed and pushed forward. “If I could continue training under you, and going to competitions with you… I think I’d be the happiest person alive.”

The sadness and stray emotion lingering on Viktor’s face dissolved as Yuuri said that, as Yuuri watched. 

“I’m truly touched,” Viktor said. “I’d love it if you’d come to Russia with me and compete in the competitions I did. Also, you’d be almost guaranteed a free ride to college with all of those under your belt.”

“You would, too,” Yuuri pointed out.

“It’s a plan, then! We’ll do great at Inter-States and Nationals this year, finish high school together, I’ll bring you to Russia, and then we’ll go to college together!” Viktor paused. “That is, if you’re not sick of me by then.”

“Viktor, I’ll never get sick of you,” Yuuri said.

“That’s good to hear,” said Viktor, “because sometimes even  _ I _ get sick of me!”

They ordered room service and watched crappy TV until eight o’clock, when Viktor called it a night.

“The competition starts at eleven,” Viktor informed Yuuri. “We’ll get your performance time at registration. So, we should leave at about nine, get a light breakfast, and head over there. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

“You tired?”

“Mm hm.” Yuuri was nodding off.

“Me too.” Viktor sighed and turned off the television. “We never did get around to studying for SATs.”

“Tomorrow,” Yuuri mumbled.

Viktor rolled over and nuzzled Yuuri’s neck. “Mm, you smell good.”

Yuuri didn’t have the energy to push him away or get outwardly flustered, but his heartbeat sped.

“Hah… good night, Yuuri…”

And with that, Viktor flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling Yuuri down with him, and buried his face in Yuuri’s hair.

For a few minutes, Yuuri was stiff, nervous about his close proximity to his boyfriend. (That word, again… thinking about  _ Viktor _ being his  _ boyfriend… _ ) But it didn’t take long for Yuuri to relax, because the rise and fall of Viktor’s chest was rhythmic and soothing, and it was dark, and Viktor’s arms around him were strong and warm.

After that, it took almost no time for Yuuri to fall asleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is I-S, guys - no more stalling! This was originally the first half of a longer chapter but I decided to post it early as an early Christmas present... hope you're enjoying!! :)


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri performs for the first time in front of a large audience, and then enjoys his last night of procrastination with Viktor.

“There are so many people,” Yuuri whispered.

“They’re here to see the performances,” Viktor replied, a little louder, so Yuuri could hear him over the chatter of the people all around them.

“Wh-” Yuuri’s eyes darted back and forth, back and forth. “I thought this was… a closed performance…”

“Nope.”

“You tricked me,” Yuuri said in a low voice, hands starting to sweat.

“No, but I left that detail out on purpose, because I knew you would rile yourself up over nothing.” Viktor put an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and steered him to the waiting room, which was mostly empty.

“Nothing? Viktor, I’ve never performed in front of a crowd before!” Yuuri was trying his best not to start hyperventilating.

“You’ve performed in front of judges,” Viktor said. “You perform in front of me all the time.”

“That’s different-”

“How? How is it different?” Viktor forced Yuuri into a chair and knelt in front of him. “Yuuri. Yuuri, look at me.”

Yuuri looked, eyes stinging.

“You are going to perform beautifully,” Viktor insisted.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I see it every day,” Viktor said. “Your passion, your drive, and your talent. You can show me. You’ve showed judges. Now, show _everyone._ ”

They stared at each other for a long, long moment, as dancers filed into the room to warm up.

Then, Yuuri looked away.

“Okay,” he said.

 

~

 

“Quite a crowd tonight!” someone said to Yuuri.

“Y-yeah, there’s a lot more people than I expected…” Yuuri shifted closer to Viktor as the crowd became denser and they drew closer to the stage.

Viktor’s hand tightened on Yuuri’s hip, and Yuuri jumped.

“You’re next,” Viktor said into Yuuri’s ear. “Remember what we talked about, Yuuri. You are a child again, dancing the graceful and pure love of one who has never experienced heartbreak.”

“That sounds like poetry,” was all Yuuri could think to say.

“Dance is poetry,” Viktor said. “Your body is the brush that paints the landscape. Now, go out there and dance.”

“You’ll… y-you’ll watch me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will.”

The warmth of Viktor’s smile could’ve powered Yuuri through ten public performances. (Good thing it only had to power one.)

Yuuri walked up a short flight of stairs, and suddenly he was alone, standing in the middle of a wide stage. The lights were blinding - he couldn’t see the audience, or Viktor, or the judges…

Dimly, Yuuri heard someone announce his name, and the music. Then, the first notes registered in Yuuri’s ears, and he stepped into first position… second, third, fourth, fifth, back to first…

His eyes adjusted, and as if by magic he caught Viktor’s gaze, which was analytical. Maybe even a little impersonal?

Yuuri didn’t look again.

Through his performance, Yuuri moved, as Viktor had suggested, with grace that suggested delicacy, or childishness, but without clumsiness. The sweet voice of the soprano lifted Yuuri’s steps, and he felt… light, somehow. As Viktor said: pure love, unconditional.

He thought briefly of his parents, his sister, of Yuuko.

The song ended much too soon, and Yuuri found himself frozen center-stage as people stood from their chairs and cheered. Viktor’s loud whistle rang out over everyone else.

“That was wonderful, Yuuri!” Viktor said when Yuuri rejoined him. “I could see your agape.” He leaned closer, and whispered directly into Yuuri’s ear, “I can’t wait to see your eros.”

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Yuuri was glad his face was flushed already. It wasn’t like he could get much redder.

 

~

 

“There were four judges today, and each one could give up to 100 points,” Viktor explained, reading off Yuuri’s scoresheet as Yuuri lounged on the other hotel bed. “You got an 85.3, an 89, a 76.7, and a 91.6! That’s great, Yuuri, honestly… I have no idea what the 76 judge was on, but it was probably pretty strong.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri protested.

“Anyways, you ended up with a combined score of 342.6, which was in the top five scores of the competition!” Viktor grinned. “You’re guaranteed a spot in Nationals, Yuuri! I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks for having confidence in me,” Yuuri murmured.

“That’s what coaches do!” Viktor paused. “And boyfriends, too, I suppose.”

Yuuri decided to tease Viktor a little. “Which should I call you? My coach, or my boyfriend?”

“Hmm, good question. Maybe… your boyfroach? Coachfriend?”

“Viktor…”

“You’re right, we should stick with plain old boyfriend-coach. Or coach-boyfriend. Either way sounds equally stupid, so you can choose.”

Yuuri huffed. “Sorry for trying to make a joke.”

“Apology accepted, because that was honestly terrible.”

“Yeah? Well, your jokes aren’t that great, either.”

“Cite one bad joke I’ve made in the past year.”

“Hm, let’s see… all of them?”

“Yuuri, you’ve wounded me!” Viktor fake-swooned back on the bed and smacked his head off the baseboard. “Ow.”

“You okay?”

“You wounded me… you actually, physically caused me to wound myself…”

“That’s a little dramat-”

“I don’t think I’ll ever recover,” Viktor whined. “Yuuri, either take me to the hospital, or…”

“Or?” Yuuri asked.

“Or, come over and kiss it better…”

“You’re impossible,” Yuuri said, but he happily took the hint and jumped over onto Viktor’s bed. Viktor bounced and almost fell off the edge.

Viktor pouted, and Yuuri sidled up next to him. “Seriously, are you okay? I don’t want to aggravate your concussion…”

“Yuuri, that was two months ago… give or take.”

“I told you, the symptoms can last for a year!”

“That’s way too long! I don’t believe that!”

“Google it!”

“No! I want to watch TV!”

“Why are we shouting!”

They were both dead silent for about a minute.

“You’re crazy,” Yuuri said.

“But you still love me.”

Yuuri kissed the top of Viktor’s head, then snuggled down to his chest. “There. You’re cured,” he said softly.

“It’s a miracle!” Viktor crowed, reaching for the remote. “I should keep you around all the time, so whenever I am injured you can heal me with your love.”

“That sounds like a bad line from a dating app…”

“I was trying to sound poetic again, like at Inter-States today…”

“Stick to dance poetry,” Yuuri suggested. “You have a knack for it.”

“You think?”

“Mm hm.”

Viktor flicked through the channels. “We’ve got… the news… basketball… ooh, Star Trek? What’s that?”

“Let’s watch that.”

Yuuri explained the basic plot of the show to Viktor, who admitted that he barely ever watched TV or TV shows.

“Not even on Netflix?” Yuuri asked, aghast.

“Nope.”

“Oh well. I mean, TV’s not that great. It’s good for mindless relaxation.”

“We should go to sleep soon,” Viktor said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Yeah.”

(They fell asleep at eleven without even turning the television off.)

 

~

 

“How did it go? Did you have fun?” his mother asked as soon as Yuuri stepped through the door.

“Yep.” Yuuri made a beeline for his bedroom.

“What’s the rush, kiddo?” his dad asked as he rushed past the living room.

“I barely studied for SATs,” Yuuri said, “and they’re in three days!”

“In that case, hurry and go,” his dad said. “I won’t tell your mother.”

“Won’t tell me what?” Yuuri heard as he closed his bedroom door.

“Nothing, dear!”

Yuuri flipped open his new laptop and stared at the startup screen, headache already starting to form at his temples. He really, really didn’t want to do his homework, or study, or be productive…

Then he thought of Viktor, and of going to Russia with him, and of going to college with him…

 _I can do this_ , Yuuri decided. _I might need some coffee, though… and some serious good-vibes instrumental music…_

He didn’t budge from his laptop until ten-thirty, when he shut it and promptly passed out.

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor get good news, have to take the SAT, and somehow end up making out in the studio instead of studying.

Viktor burst into homeroom Tuesday morning waving a sheet of paper. “Yuuri!”

“Huh? What?”

Throwing himself into the seat beside Yuuri, Viktor shoved the paper into his hands. “You did it! You’re in!” he whispered.

Yuuri’s eyes flew down the letter, skimming. “ _Yuuri Katsuki… met the qualifier for Nationals… will be seeing you both in June… signed, National Dance Committee.”_

“We did it!” Yuuri exclaimed.

“Shh,” Viktor said, but his eyes were shining. “Now, we can talk more at lunch about this… three months is more than enough time for you to choreograph a few new programs with me… we’ll enter into a couple events this year… hmm…”

Viktor was mumbling to himself at that point, and Yuuri nudged him. “Viktor?”

“Right! Right, sorry. We’ll talk more at lunch… I bet I can pull some strings…”

The rest of homeroom was spent by Viktor muttering under his breath and barely addressing Yuuri at all, and most of the kids in the room staring at the both of them like they were insane.

 

~

 

“Obviously you’re entering the solo classical category, since that’s ballet,” Viktor said, tapping a pen against his clipboard. “There’s also contemporary and tap, and I don’t think you’re into either of those…”

“What’s contemporary?”

“Oh, it’s the more modern type of dance… we get hip hop, street dance, and regular choreographed routines to different genres… It’s the second most popular, outside of classical, of course.”

“Which categories did you compete in?” Yuuri asked.

“Always solo classical and usually solo tap,” Viktor said, “but a few times I did duo contemporary. Oh, and I did a duo specific with a friend one time.”

“Duo specific…?”

“We should enter duo specific together!” Viktor declared.

“What does that even mean…”

“Duo specific is one of the less popular categories in the duo section, but it draws a huge crowd.” Viktor scribbled something on the clipboard. “Couples do salsa, samba, tango, lyrical, swing… it’s really open-ended, so everyone looks forward to seeing the variety.”

“And you think we should enter?” Yuuri paused, biting at a hangnail. “Don’t you have to qualify to enter?”

“I know some people,” Viktor said confidently. “I’ve been to Nationals so many times, they’d die to have me compete with someone new.”

“Oh… okay.” Yuuri shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

“Ah, and we should enter the duo ballroom as well.” Viktor’s eyes held a rare gleam. “It’s not that competitive and always lots of fun.”

“Won’t this be an awful lot of choreography to prepare…?”

“It’ll be fine, totally fine,” Viktor said, waving a hand and finishing writing on the paper. “There we go, we’re all ready. I’ll mail this out tomorrow morning.” He looked at Yuuri. “Yuuri, are you stretched out? We’ve got work to do!”

“You haven’t stretched, either,” Yuuri pointed out.

“Right you are.” Viktor dropped into a split, suppressing a wince. “There we go. Yuuri, can you do a split?”

“Can I do a… You do realize who you’re talking to, right?”

“Of course I do.” Viktor smirked up at Yuuri. “My cute, awkward boyfriend who has trouble doing splits because-”

“Because I’m a male, and it hurts,” Yuuri interjected.

“Sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! I’m excited for Nationals. I hope I can introduce you to Yuri.”

“You’re changing the subject!”

“Like a pro.” Viktor flopped onto his side and folded his legs into the lotus pose. “Come on, Yuuri, it’s already four o’clock and I want to pick up groceries on the way home.”

“Groceries? How much?”

“Oh, I only need artificial sweetener and flour.”

“As long as I’m not late.”

Viktor pressed a hand to his chest. “You doubt my skills at time-management?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, fair point. Okay, I’ll bring in some CDs tomorrow and we can listen to them together, see if we find anything that will work for your routines. I already know what we should do for ballroom… We’ll need some costumes, maybe I can write home and see if Chris will go into my apartment and ship some of my-”

“Viktor.”

“Hm?”

“You’re muttering again.”

“Alright, smarty pants. Less talking, more stretching!”

 

~

 

SATs were a freaking nightmare, and that was putting it lightly. By the time he walked from the testing room, Yuuri’s head was ready to explode.

Viktor caught up to him as they headed to the bus. “So? How do you think you did?”

“Okay, probably.” Yuuri sighed. “The non-calculator section killed me. Ugh.”

“I hope I did alright,” Viktor said. “I had some trouble with the math, too.”

Yuuri sighed again, shoulders slumping. Viktor sneaked his arm around them.

“V… Viktor…”

“It’s fine,” Viktor said. “Nobody’s watching us. Don’t worry about it.”

Hearing the shortness of Viktor’s tone, Yuuri tried to think of something to say… Nothing came to mind. Guilt pooled in his stomach.

They sat next to each other on the bus, and Yuuri leaned into Viktor’s shoulder.

“Tired?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“We’ll end practice early today, do a little studying,” Viktor said. “We have a science test on Thursday, don’t we?”

“Ugh, physics,” Yuuri groaned. “I almost forgot…”

“We’ll ace it, together!” Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s shoulder and bumped the top of Yuuri’s head with his own. “We need good test scores, since we’re deferring college for a year… Have you finished your applications?”

“I totally missed the regular deadline, but I’m turning in the Common App sometime next week…”

“Don’t worry about it! I missed the deadline as well!”

“Even if we both qualify for good scholarships because of our background in dance, I hope I get some good financial aid,” Yuuri said. “Considering my parents probably won’t help pay for college once I tell them about my gap year.”

“My parent’s won’t be helping either, but I’m lucky that I saved enough from my winnings to cover the first couple years, at least.”

Yuuri looked up at Viktor’s face and saw he was staring out the opposite windows of the bus.

“Viktor… your parents…” Yuuri fidgeted, and Viktor noticeably stiffened.

“Um, never mind,” Yuuri murmured. “I can tell you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Another time, Yuuri,” Viktor said softly. “ _Obeshchayu._ ”

“Hm? What does that mean?”

Viktor’s smile warmed Yuuri’s entire body. “I promise.”

 

~

 

“Okay, Yuuri, what’s the formula of force?”

“Uh… it’s…” Yuuri closed his eyes. “Mass times acceleration equals force,” he said rapidly.

“Good, good!” Viktor flipped over the study guide. “Okay, my turn. You do me.”

Yuuri took the paper.

“No double-meaning intended,” Viktor added.

For a second, Yuuri had no idea what on Earth Viktor was-

Oh.

“Viktor! Don’t do that!” he wailed.

“Do what?”

“Stop it! Stop! You know I hate it when you…!”

“It’s cute to see you get all flustered.”

“Yeah? Am I cute when I’m pissed off, then?”

Viktor let out a dreamy sigh. “Even cuter.”

“Argh! You’re impossible!”

“So you’ve said.”

“We’re going to fail this test if you don’t focus!”

“Yuuri, you’ve got this down. I’m not worried.”

“Well, I _am!”_

“Don’t be. You’ll do fine!”

“Ugh…” Yuuri flopped backwards, barely keeping his head from smacking off the studio floor. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to balance schoolwork and getting ready for Nationals…”

“I took three years off from school to compete, because I couldn’t handle the stress, but you’re doing great under pressure.”

“Maybe outwardly.” Yuuri rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses onto the floor. “Inwardly, not so much.”

“Oh? That’s a shame.”

Viktor was looming over Yuuri, then, silver hair hanging down.

“If you’d like, I can help you get rid of some of that pent-up stress…”

Yuuri’s pulse might as well have been a bass drum.

“So? What do you say?”

“I say… that if Mrs. Whittaker comes in here and we’re making out on the floor, she might never let us use this space again.”

“Making out? _Just_ making out?”

“ _Viktor!_ ”

He sighed. “You’re no fun, Yuuri.”

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Tempting.” Viktor looked down at Yuuri. “Why? Is there someth-”

Yuuri seized Viktor by the collar and pulled him down, their foreheads bumping. For a long, long moment, Yuuri held them there, their lips sliding in synch. until Viktor’s elbows gave out and their teeth smashed together.

“Oww,” Viktor complained, pushing himself up with an elbow.

“That was your fault, not mine!”

“You were kissing me too well,” Viktor said. “I lost too much oxygen. I nearly fainted.”

“What? That was too much?” Yuuri teased.

“I’m delicate,” Viktor said, fluttering his eyelashes. “You’d better be careful with me.”

Yuuri wound one leg around Viktor’s, and in a familiar motion, lifted his hips and flipped Viktor over onto his back.

“I said I was _delicate,_ "Viktor gasped.

“You want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say th-”

Their lips collided again.

After a while, Viktor put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and pushed him back.

“We should stop,” he said.

“Do you want to stop?” Yuuri asked.

“No, but what about what you said… Mrs. Whittaker…”

“She won’t come back here,” Yuuri said.

“But… we should study…”

“Do you really want to stop?”

“Not even remotely. But… we should…”

“Yes. We definitely should…”

Yuuri climbed off of Viktor, and then offered him his hand. Viktor accepted it, and Yuuri pulled him to his feet.

“Woah, head rush.” Viktor swayed, then grinned. “Imagine me fainting from exertion, and my prince coming to the rescue…”

“You’re heavy,” Yuuri objected. “But… if it was a matter of life and death… I’m sure I’d figure something out.”

“So romantic!”

“Enough, enough!” Yuuri blushed. “You still haven’t told me which tracks we’re using for the duo ballroom program.”

“I emailed Chris, so most of my costumes should be shipped to my apartment before April! I can’t wait to see you in my outfits…”

“Viktor? You’re muttering.”

“Anyways, let’s listen to some of my tracks. Then I’ll drive you home.”

“Do you have to?”

“Well, morally and realistically, yes… But… no?”

Yuuri sighed. “It’s fine. Let’s hurry and do this. I have a lot of homework to do tonight…”

“Text me when you take a break, and we can chat!”

“Okay, sounds good.” Yuuri took that small bit of hope and powered through the rest of the afternoon.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April vacation comes and goes, Yuuri learns a little bit of Russian, and Viktor begins to refine their programs.

Time went on, and Yuuri’s programs began to take shape. As per Viktor’s request, he began to work on his ballet piece, but it didn’t take much for it to begin to take shape. He was going to perform to a piano cover of “Vivere A Colori,” which was beautiful, and Yuuri loved it.

Viktor had signed them up for the duo ballroom and duo specific categories, and… had also signed Yuuri up… for the solo contemporary… without letting him know.

“What _exactly…_ did you… sign me up for?”

“You can use the ‘On Love: Eros’ track! It’ll be perfect?” Viktor clasped his hands together. “Trust me, Yuuri. I have experience here. You’ll have a blast - I promise.”

And that was that… Yuuri didn’t even get a say. He decided to trust Viktor, though he was annoyed that Viktor hadn’t consulted him beforehand - probably because he'd suspected Yuuri would put up a fight.

It was coming up on April vacation, and Yuuri was struggling. His grades were fluctuating, moving up and down on any given day. His mother was less than pleased.

“Your English grade is a 79 right now,” she said, pointing to her laptop open on the counter. “What’s up? I thought your tutoring with your friend would help your grades, not cause them to go down.”

“Mom, I can fix that by Friday,” Yuuri assured her. “I got a sixty on a paper because the last couple pages printed off blank. If I turn it in again, my teacher will re-grade it to a 90.”

“They don’t let you do that in college, you know!”

(Yuuri hated that phrase so, so much.)

(At least he had a B+ in Physics - that test grade was heavensent.)

 

~

 

The day before April break, Viktor cornered Yuuri in the library.

“I know you probably won’t be able to get to the studio over break,” Viktor said, “so I’m telling you now to make sure you stretch every day, and stay hydrated.”

“I’m probably just going to stay home,” Yuuri said. “And study.”

“Practice your Eros routine for me, _da?”_ Viktor’s smile was infectious. “I’m taking a short trip to Russia, to see some friends.”

Yuuri could hardly keep himself from begging _take me with you._

As if he’d read Yuuri’s mind, Viktor frowned. “I wish you could come with me, but…”

“I know, I know… my parents wouldn’t let me.”

“We’ve got all of next year to sightsee in Asia!” Viktor grasped Yuuri’s hand. “There’s a time difference, but if you need to talk to me, text me anytime!”

“Okay,” Yuuri said, making a mental note to check on the time difference between Russia and America.

“I’ll be wearing your good-luck charm,” Viktor said, lifting the silver chain of the necklace Yuuri had given him with one finger.

“You like it?”

“I love it.” Viktor’s eyes sparkled, and the pink stone caught the light as he tucked it away. “I’ll see you soon, Yuuri.”

“See you,” Yuuri said, heart sinking as they parted ways.

 

~

 

Vacation seemed to last forever, and by the Saturday before school, Yuuri was ready to jump off a bridge. The only time he’d left the house that week was to go ice skating at the rink the past Tuesday. He’d been neglecting his stretches, and had yet to practice his Eros routine… though he’d gone through his ballet routine at least ten times.

He texted Viktor as consistently as he could without being clingy… at least, he _tried_ not to be clingy. Viktor sent him pictures of the snowy landscape, and of his friend Chris, and several of a fluffy brown poodle. Viktor called the dog “Makkachin,” and even sent a short video of himself petting Makkachin and cooing to him in Russian.

Yuuri really wished he knew Russian… it sounded really, really attractive the way Viktor said it. He downloaded a language app onto his phone and spent a good chunk of his vacation butchering the Russian language.

When Viktor called Yuuri that Sunday to check in, Yuuri was ready.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Viktor said, voice tinny through the phone. “How was your vacation?”

 _“Privet_ , Viktor,” Yuuri replied, trying desperately to keep his tone light. “It was fine. How was Russia?”

For a moment, Viktor was silent… and then he _giggled._

“Yuuri! You learned Russian!”

“I’m n-not good at all,” Yuuri hastened to say. “B-but I thought, j-just for fun-”

“That’s so flattering! Thank you!”

“No problem…”

“I can’t wait to see you!” Viktor said. “If you want, I can teach you some more Russian!”

“Maybe a little,” Yuuri said. “I mean, we’ve got a lot to manage…”

“True, true! We’ll get back on your routines on Monday. Speaking of which… have you been practicing your Eros routine?”

“A little?”

“So, no.”

“I’ve listened to the music,” Yuuri offered. “And I worked on my ballet routine.”

“Yuuri, we both know you’re all set with that one.” Viktor sighed. “You’ve been doing ballet your whole life. Come on, Yuuri, you’ve got to commit.”

Sighing, Yuuri glanced out his bedroom window at the gray sky.

“I know you can do it.”

“Thanks…”

“My flight’s soon! I’ll see tomorrow in homeroom, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“See you!”

“See you…”

Yuuri occupied himself with the Russian language instead of homework that night. It was eleven o’clock when he gave up, head pounding, and rolled over to place his phone on his bedside table. Though his mind was whirling with information, Yuuri was so tired he fell asleep in a flash.

 

~

 

“Are you ready to work on our duo ballroom routine?”

Yuuri had never heard Viktor sound so excited.

“I… I guess…?”

“Good, good!” Viktor sorted through a stack of DVDs. “I thought of having us do the duet version of ‘Stay Close To Me/Aria,’ but I decided against it…”

“That’s the song you chose for me in the preliminary competition, right?”

“Mm, yes… It was my song when I debuted as a dancer in Russia.”

“Wh-what?! R… really?”

“Yes… I didn’t tell you?”

“No…!” Yuuri’s eyes were wide. “Who composed it?”

“The same friend who composed the ‘On Love’ pieces!”

“Are you close to them?”

“Oh, he was a classmate of mine in high school, and we’ve kept in touch.” Viktor found the CD he was looking for. “Found it!” He paused. “His name is Takutaro. He’s really talented, and wrote lots of the music I’ve used in programs!”

“I’d love to meet him someday.”

Viktor put the CD into the stereo. “I’m sure we’ll bump into him sometime next year, at your Asian debut,” he said, throwing a wink Yuuri’s way.

“Anyways, I asked him to compose the aria to express some of my loneliness,” Viktor said as soft music filled the room. “You must have noticed the longing of the music.”

Yuuri looked up from his stretching. “Yes, I did notice it… The choreography you had me do as well was indicative of sorrow or loneliness.”

Viktor nodded. “I like the duet version better - it’s much more joyful. Unfortunately, it’s more suited to an ice dancing routine.”

“We could’ve used it at the showcase..."

“I liked your selection better,” Viktor said, “and so did everyone else.”

“Thanks…”

They were quiet for a minute as the music played. Viktor clapped his hands, and the spell was broken.

“Alright, so I was thinking we could do a cover of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Waltz of the Flowers,’” Viktor said.

“That’s from The Nutcracker, right?”

“I think so? I don’t know, I’ve never seen it performed.”

“So, what’s the routine like?” Yuuri asked.

“Well, since I’m all healed up now, I’ll be fine to lead.” Viktor flashed Yuuri a winning smile. “Also, dancing on the regular floor is much less dangerous than dancing on the ice.”

“Okay. So… what’s the routine like?”

“Come here, and follow my lead.”

Viktor took Yuuri’s hands as the music changed, placing one on his shoulder and the other on his waist. His feet stepped lightly back, and Yuuri followed him with only a little bit of hesitancy.

The song was about four minutes long and featured the highlights of the song and a slow, drawn out ending. Yuuri kept his eyes on Viktor’s shoulders, following him through the movements of the dance. He was more worried about his palms being sweaty than the actual footwork, if he was being honest with himself.

When the music ended, Viktor let go of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri was about to back away when Viktor used his free hand to lift Yuuri’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

“Well?” he practically purred. “What did you think?”

“I like it. You’re a… a good leader.” Yuuri was fighting a losing battle trying not to be distracted by Viktor’s lips.

“Thank you,” Viktor said, and Yuuri was enraptured.

For a long moment they stayed that way; Yuuri’s gaze traveled slowly from Viktor’s lips to his blue eyes. Emotion roiled in their depths, but Yuuri couldn’t tell what emotion it was. Lust? Affection?

Then, Viktor twined his fingers in Yuuri’s dark hair and pressed their lips together, and Yuuri conceded that the emotion had probably been lust… not that he minded that at all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! 7,000 views?!? I'm totally blown away!!  
> Anyways, the next couple installments will be "calm before the storm" chapters, describing some smaller things that happen between the end of April and Nationals in June. I hope you all will bear with me, and thanks for all the love and support!!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor tries to help Yuuri find his eros, our boys study Calculus, and Viktor finally fulfills his dream of making Yuuri try on all of his costumes. (Oh, and Yuuri learns about Viktor's pet name, indirectly, through Chris.)

‘Waltz of the Flowers’ was stuck in Yuuri’s head for much of the school week, which was beyond annoying. Viktor still hadn’t let Yuuri know about their duo specific music selection, but he was pushing Yuuri to practice his ‘Eros’ routine almost every day. Yuuri complied, of course, but Viktor wasn’t pleased.

“It’s not…” he said, trailing off and gesturing vaguely.

Yuuri was bent double, panting. He looked up at Viktor, frustrated, and his glasses almost fell off his nose. “Not what?”

“Not… eros!” Viktor sighed. “Yuuri, I know you can tap into your sexuality - I’ve seen it before, in our skating together. You need to _seduce me,_ Yuuri.”

Yuuri groaned.

“This isn’t agape. It’s _sexual love._ So dance _sexually._ ”

“Don’t patronize me!” Yuuri complained. “And don’t say it like it’s so easy!”

“It _is_ easy,” Viktor said.

“Not for me!”

“Oh, yes, it is!” Viktor put his fists on his hips. “Whenever you lead me, you’re able to tap into your eros.”

“That’s different-”

“How is it different?”

“It’s… ugh! It just _is,_ okay?!”

“Yuuri…” Viktor dipped his head and looked up through his bangs. “If it helps… focus on me when you’re dancing. Dance for _me.”_

“I do that anyways…” Yuuri said, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hm, how do I say this…” Viktor sighed. “Alright, how about this: seduce me. In the middle of the crowd at Nationals, you dance for me and only me. Okay?”

“So… like… you’re the only person in the room?”

“Exactly!”

“But… you _are_ the only person in the room.”

Viktor threw up his hands. “Yuuri, I swear-”

“I know, I know, I get what you mean…” Yuuri scratched the back of his neck. “I think.”

“I’m sure you do.” Viktor smiled. “Don’t worry about judgement. I won’t judge you. But do your best, and don’t worry…”

“See, when people tell me that, it’s worrying…”

“ _Yuuri.”_

Setting up to perform the routine, again, Yuuri shivered. He rolled his shoulders, and stilled as the familiar music came on, again.

Something changed.

He didn’t know what it was, but Yuuri was sure something changed. He felt… less self-conscious. A little lighter, maybe. The movements came more easily, and he wasn’t as worried as before. Of course, Viktor’s eyes were still tracking his every move, which was nerve-wracking, but…

Yuuri understood what Viktor said. He decided to stop worrying about Viktor’s judgement, or the judgement of others, and focus on… seduction.

When the last measure of the song finished, Yuuri came to a dead stop, shoulders heaving. He’d never felt more powerful in his life.

Viktor’s smile was the ultimate reward.

“You found it, Yuuri!” Arms wrapped themselves around Yuuri’s neck, fingers tangled in his hair. “I knew you would.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri squeaked, rapidly running out of air.

 

~

 

“So, what should we work on today?” Viktor asked. “You’re doing really well with your solo pieces, and the duos will be a piece of cake-”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing for our duo specific.”

“I’m working on it! You should come over to my apartment sometime this weekend to try on some costumes. I’ll text you!”

“Um, okay-”

“Moving on!” Viktor held up a binder. “Stretch out, and then we’ll do Calculus.”

“Urgh, do we have to?”

“That’s a silly question. Here’s a better one! Do you want to pass the class?”

“Yes…?”

“Okay, good! Stretch out and we’ll get started.”

 

“Linearity of integration…” Viktor frowned. “Did we even go over this in class?”

“Yes, we did.” Yuuri propped his head in his hands. “You probably weren’t paying attention.”

“Probably!” Viktor agreed, looking back to the book. “Okay, so the rule says that it’s a fundamental property of the integral, and it’s basically a combination of the constant factor rule and the sum rule…”

Yuuri hated Calculus, but he loved Viktor. So the afternoon was decidedly average… maybe a little on the better side, since he loved Viktor more than he hated Calculus. If only he was doing ratios…

 

~

 

“I’m going to Viktor’s!” Yuuri called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back by two!”

“Behave yourself!” his mother yelled.

Yuuri wasn’t sure what exactly she was implying… nothing good, he’d bet on it. It took a couple blocks of walking for the blush to fade and be replaced by regular redness from the cold.

Viktor’s apartment was on the fifth floor of a complex sandwiched between a bakery and a hairdresser’s. Yuuri took the stairs.

“Hi, Yuuri!” Viktor opened the door and smiled radiantly. “Come in!

“Sorry for the mess,” he continued. “I’ve been looking for outfits in your size.” Viktor held up a slip of paper. “Chris put this on top of the box explaining that he had to make two shipments, since I have so many costumes…”

As soon as Viktor put the note down and waded into the pile of outfits, Yuuri picked the note back up. In flowery handwriting:

_Hope you’re having fun in America, Vitya. It was great to see you - glad I came to Russia for the occasion. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I watched your pair skate as it streamed, and you and your protege seem to have quite the dynamic <3 Enjoy the clothes! (Though some of them could pass for stripper costumes at this point…) _

“Chris is one of my closest friends,” Viktor said, seeing that Yuuri was reading the letter.

Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowed. “‘Veet-yah?’”

“It’s pronounced more like ‘veez-yah,’” Viktor corrected, ducking his head.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s like a nickname,” Viktor mumbled, cheeks burning a faint pink color.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said again, as a sort of test. He was pleased to see Viktor’s blush deepen.

“You like it when I call you that?”

Viktor squirmed. “Uhm, I mean… A little…?”

Yuuri smirked. “I’ll save it for special occasions, then.”

“Yuuuuuri.”

“Viiiiiktor.”

“Fine, be like that.” Viktor huffed and turned back to his task of sorting. “Come over here and help me. What’s your size?”

Was that an innuendo? Yuuri wasn't sure. “It depends-”

“Never mind, a lot of these are hand-stitched,” Viktor said as if Yuuri hadn’t spoken at all. “We’ll have to see how you measure up to me…”

Unsure whether that was a compliment, an insult, or simply an offhand remark, Yuuri helped Viktor sort through the costumes.

A grand fashion show commenced, overlaid with lots and lots of banter. Viktor coaxed Yuuri into trying on some truly scandalous costumes… There was one that was basically a see-through Russian flag as a tube top, black leggings, and nothing else… And there was one that looked like a traditional ballerina’s tutu with a lace top, both in pastel shades of pink… And there was one that really should have been a stripper outfit - there were too many buckles and too much leather for Yuuri’s taste.

“Yuuri, let me see it!” Viktor yelled at the bathroom door.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Yuuri’s eyes took in the tight shorts, the winding black straps down his legs that looked like part of a glorified garter set, and the bare _half-inch_ of fabric that covered his pectorals.

“No!” he yelled back. “I look like a stripper!”

“I know, that’s why I want to see it!”

_“Viktor!!”_

_“What?”_

(Suffice to say, Viktor did _not_ see that outfit.)

“Ugh, do I really have to have outfits for all four events?” Yuuri complained at the one o’clock mark. “I have to be home by two and you’ve only settled on the ballroom costumes!”

“Those were so easy, though…” Viktor sighed. “I already had the idea that we should wear contrasting tuxedos.”

Yuuri threw up his hands. “And how can we pick out outfits for the duo specific when we don’t even know the piece?!”

Viktor looked at him blankly. “Huh? We don’t?”

“You haven’t told me anything about it,” Yuuri reminded him.

“I totally forgot! Yes, I decided on a piece.”

Yuuri wouldn’t have been surprised if his ears were blowing steam.

“It’s the duet version of the aria,” Viktor said quickly, sensing Yuuri’s short fuse. “I’ve started on the choreography already, and I have ideas for outfits right here. See, I ordered a suit in pink, but they sent it in blue, and so I ordered a pink one but I kept the-”

“Viktor.”

“...yes?”

Sighing, Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at Viktor over his glasses. “Please, _please,_ let me know these things ahead of time.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Viktor hung his head. “As your coach… and also as your friend… I apologize for being a thoughtless airhead.”

“You’re not thoughtless.”

“But I _am_ an airhead.”

“Sometimes,” Yuuri conceded.

“Um, so how do you like the sound of the pink and blue suits?”

“As long as I get to wear the blue one.”

Viktor relaxed. “Good, I was hoping you’d say that. We should try them on, see if we need to get them altered or anything.”

The suits turned out to be nearly perfect on Yuuri, though the pants were a bit long. Viktor couldn’t even button up the jacket - his shoulders were too broad.

“I’ll get them altered,” Viktor said, pouting. “I’m not as slim as I once was…”

In a whirlwind of energy, Viktor had Yuuri try on at least thirty different outfits in a span of thirty minutes, and they finally settled on two for his solo pieces: for his ballet piece, a leotard with an iridescent rainbow pattern on the back and white tights, and for his ‘Eros’ piece, a black skinsuit similar to the one Yuuri had worn for the States showcase, but the decals were smaller, more intricate, like spiderwebs down his arms and legs, and faint grey.

“Lovely!” Viktor grinned. “Alright, take these home, and don’t forget them! I’m booking our tickets tonight.”

“I can p-pay you,” Yuuri stammered.

“No need! You can include in your coaching fees.”

Yuuri gulped.

“Hmm, maybe I should include tutoring fees as well…”

Yuuri stopped himself from gulping again.

“Yuuri! You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Viktor put his fingers to his lips. “Don’t tell me you actually think I’m serious…”

“You’re… not?”

Viktor burst out laughing. “Yuuri, I was teasing you this whole time about fees and things! You don’t have to pay me a cent!”

“But-”

“Nope! No buts! I’m coaching you because I want to. I don’t want payment.”

Viktor glided closer and laid a hand on Yuuri’s cheek.

“You’re the best payment I could hope for,” Viktor breathed.

The clock on the wall ticked. Quarter of two.

“I’ll be late,” Yuuri breathed back. Their faces were millimeters apart.

“Can you text your mother?” Their lips brushed.

With one hand, Yuuri unlocked his phone. He opened the messenger app, selected his mother, and activated the voice command. Turning his head slightly, Yuuri said, “Hey Mom, I’ll be about ten or fifteen minutes late… Studying ran long.”

He sent the text.

“You know something else that’s long?”

There was a sudden pressure on Yuuri’s chest, and he was pushed backwards onto the floor.

“What?” he rasped.

“The amount of time I’m going to spend loving you,” Viktor said, bedroom eyes never leaving Yuuri’s face. “It’s so long, I’d say it goes on forever.”

“You know what else are so long they go on forever?” Yuuri asked, reaching up and twining his hands in Viktor’s hair.

“What?”

“Your bad pickup lines,” Yuuri replied, pulling Viktor down on top of him.  _"Vitya."_

He heard Viktor groan and smiled against his lips, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from sexual frustration or from the horrible jokes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one or two chapters will be vignettes, almost, wrapping things up and getting things ready for Nationals. Unless I spend New Year's Eve writing (which I very well might considering my lousy habit of having parents who won't let me go out) this will be the last chapter of the year. So, happy 2017 everybody! Catch you on the flipside!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor asks Yuuri to Prom, Yuuri gets a head start on his packing, and Yuuri and Viktor go on their first official date.

Viktor threw himself into a seat across from Yuuri. “So, Prom is in a few weeks.”

Yuuri almost choked on a piece of orange. Once he recovered his breath, he replied. “So are Nationals.”

“Yes, but Prom is the week _after.”_

“And?”

“And what?”

“And, what does that mean?”

“Oh!” Viktor smiled. “I’m asking you if you’ll go with me.”

Yuuri really did choke that time, and spent nearly five minutes composing himself, with Viktor panicking and patting his back most of the time. Viktor looked very nervous by the time Yuuri’s breathing evened out.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, passing him a water bottle.

“M’fine,” Yuuri wheezed, taking a sip and glad he was able to pass off his face’s redness as caused by oxygen deprivation.

“So, uh…” Viktor shrugged, chewing on his upper lip.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.”

“Really?!”

Yuuri looked at Viktor oddly. “Yes…?”

“I’m so glad!” Viktor gushed, reaching for Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri almost pulled away, but… He didn’t. He held on, smiled at Viktor, losing himself in those blue-

Out of nowhere he started coughing again, and Viktor started panicking again.

“I hope you’re not allergic to me!” he said with a strained laugh.

Yuuri shook his head. “Wrong pipe.”

“Don’t die on me! I need a date to Prom!”

The coughing subsided and Yuuri shot him a withering look.

“What?”

 

~

 

“What should I pack into?” Yuuri asked.

“It’s still May! Why are you packing?”

“I want to be prepared!” Yuuri shifted his phone, keeping it pressed to his ear with his shoulder. “What should I pack into?”

“A regular suitcase or rolling bag, I guess. You have to fit enough clothes for three days, and maybe pack a formal outfit for the banquet. I’ll be bringing our costumes so don’t worry about that…” Viktor huffed. “Maybe bring some pocket money? You might find something you like in London…”

“Oh, so it’s being held in London?”

“Whoops! Cat’s out!”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Viktor, I Googled that, like, a month ago.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking it could be a surprise.” Viktor sighed. “It was held in Moscow a few years ago. I wish it was there this year, I’d love to show you my homeland.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that next year, right?”

“Oh, of course! I’ll mention our arrangement to Yakov when we get to England. He might be able to set us up with cheap accommodations.”

“Is there anything else you want me to bring, besides clothes and stuff?”

“Condoms might be helpful.”

Yuuri almost dropped the phone.

“Relax, I was kidding!” Viktor laughed. “I mean, unless you _really_ want t-”

“No thanks!” Yuuri interjected.

Viktor inhaled as if he was about to say something-

Yuuri cut him off. “I swear to GOD, if you say something like ‘you’re no fun,’ or ‘everyone does it,’ or, or…”

“All I was going to say is you should pack a swimsuit.” There was a definite note of amusement in Viktor’s voice.

“Shut up! You were not!”

“And make sure you pack for warm weather, and a raincoat.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t use that tone of voice! I’m only trying to help!”

“What are you, my dad?”

“No! Unless… that’s your kink?”

“VIKTOR!!”

 

~

 

“Finals start the week after Nationals…” Viktor sighed and shuffled through a binder. “Well, at least we have a week and a weekend in between. If they’d scheduled it a week later…”

“We’d be toast,” Yuuri finished.

“How did your application go? Did you like your essays?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Well enough. I haven’t gotten any letters back yet.”

“That’s to be expected, since we both turned ours in late.” Viktor grimaced. “Ah, well, what we lack in time we make up for in… talent, and… personality.”

“You’ll probably get a scholarship for being hot,” muttered Yuuri.

“Was that a compliment?”

“No. It was a statement.”

“You’d get that scholarship, too, if it existed!” Viktor exclaimed.

“Can you two please keep it down,” somebody hissed from another table. “Some of us are trying to study.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri whispered.

“We get enough of your cutesy PDA couple stuff at lunch,” someone else said under their breath.

Yuuri flushed and buried his face in a textbook.

 

~

 

“Okay, you’ve got the routine down,” Viktor said, stopping the music mid-note. He ran a hand through his silver hair. “All you need is the emotion, Yuuri. That’s all you need.”

“It’s not that easy!” Yuuri couldn’t help but snap, flinging himself onto the floor and glaring at the wall.

“Yuuri…”

Viktor knelt in front of him. Yuuri refused to look.

“Yuuri, please.” A hand rested on his knee. “I know you’re tired. I’m sorry for pushing you.”

“It’s okay, it’s just…” Yuuri looked at Viktor, then, biting his lip. “A lot.”

“Oh, _moya lyubov,_ I understand,” Viktor said, sliding forward and tugging Yuuri’s arm towards him. Yuuri took the hint and shifted until he was seated between Viktor’s legs, and twined their fingers together.

“I don’t want to let you down,” Yuuri confessed. “And school… I don’t want to let my parents down. And…”

“Take care of yourself,” Viktor said softly. “You’re tired. You’re working too hard.”

“But I have to!” Yuuri said,

Viktor tried again. “Be kind to yourself. Please. You know the solo routines perfectly, and the ballroom dance is simply following. You’re progressing quickly on our duo specific piece, and I’m not worried at all.”

They’d been working on the duet piece every day for the past two weeks. Yuuri had the leader’s part again, but off the ice it was a little easier. Some of the choreography was difficult, and Yuuri wasn’t used to leading Viktor, so he’d been having problems with timidity and-

“See, you’re overthinking things again!” Viktor dropped a kiss on the crown of Yuuri’s head and scooched back, standing up. “Hm.”

Yuuri looked over his shoulder and saw Viktor was looking at the clock. “Huh? What is it?”

“We need a mental health afternoon,” Viktor declared. “Get your things, Yuuri, we’re going out.”

“What? But we just got here!”

“Yes, and now we’re leaving!” Viktor was already headed for the door. “Meet me at my car, I have a surprise for you!”

(Yuuri sincerely hoped the surprise was not car sex.)

The surprise turned out to be a date - their first official date, that is.

(Yuuri was only mildly disappointed the surprise was not car sex.)

“It occurred to me that I’ve never taken you out before,” Viktor said over his mocha. “I’m a horrible boyfriend…”

“No you’re not!” Yuuri was quick to defend. “We’ve been so busy for the past…”

“Half-year?”

“Half-year.” Yuuri sighed heavily and took a swallow of his coffee.

“Next time, it’ll be a real dinner out,” Viktor promised. “We’ll wear suits and everything.”

“Thank you for bringing me here. It’s nice,” Yuuri said, attempting a smile.

“Ah, Yuuri, the bags under your eyes contradict the cheeriness in your voice.”

Yuuri put a hand to his face. “Are they really that noticeable?”

Viktor shook his head. “I’d imagine mine look worse, my skin is lighter.”

“You look fine,” Yuuri assured him. “You look wonderful.”

“I’d hope so, since I put concealer over my dark circles every morning,” Viktor said.

“Really?!”

“Really. I’m vain,” Viktor said.

“Wow, I had no idea!” said Yuuri.

“That was so sarcastic!” Viktor pouted.

“Sorry.” Yuuri held back a grin. “I couldn’t resist.”

“And I can’t resist _you,_ _moya lyubov,”_ Viktor replied with a heart-stopping smirk.

Yuuri buried his nose in his mug, fogging up his glasses, in a weak attempt to hide his blush. “What does th-that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“That thing you said in Russian.”

“Hm? What did I say?” Viktor’s voice was overly innocent.

_“Viktor.”_

“All I want is to hear you say it in my native language!”

“Say what?”

Viktor glowered at him and Yuuri couldn’t help smiling.

“You first,” Viktor said.

“No, you first.”

Yuuri took a deep breath.

 

“I love you,” they said in unison, Yuuri in Russian and Viktor in English.

 

Immediately, Yuuri’s face went red. To his shock, Viktor’s cheeks went pink as well. Yuuri sat back in his chair, took off his glasses, and fiddled with them.

“That was so cute,” Viktor muttered.

Yuuri looked up at his blur of a boyfriend. “What?”

Putting his glasses back on, Yuuri was met with Viktor’s radiant smile.

“Thank you for saying it,” Viktor said, reaching across the table and taking Yuuri’s hand. “Your pronunciation was admirable.” Lips brushed across Yuuri’s knuckles.

Yuuri almost said something completely brainless about Viktor’s pronunciation, but wisely managed to keep his mouth shut.

 

~

 

“Get some rest,” Viktor said as he pulled into Yuuri’s driveway. “Don’t study too late. We’ve got to work on the duet piece for the rest of this week, with Nationals so close, but-”

“Yeah, I’d say that five days is pretty close,” Yuuri interrupted.

“Don’t sass me.” Viktor wagged a finger. “But you need to relax and let it come. You’re ready, Yuuri. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said.

“Oh.” Viktor sighed. “Have you told your parents yet?”

  
“I’m, uhm…” Yuuri tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, ducking his head. “I’m working on it.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” Viktor unlocked the car. “Sleep well! I’ll see you in homeroom!”

 

~

 

The week passed in a flash, and before Yuuri knew it, Nationals was a mere day away. He was supposed to meet Viktor in the Bailey's parking lot the next morning, so they could drive to the airport together.

And Yuuri still didn’t know what to say to his parents…

Yuuri shifted his backpack on his shoulder, sighed, and went inside.

 

His mother looked up from a stack of paper. His father had his hands on his mother’s shoulders, and seemed to be in mid-sentence.

“Hi…?” Yuuri said in a small voice.

  
And the volcano erupted.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the killer cliffhanger, guys!! I think we all know what's about to happen, though... 0.o
> 
> Anyways, school starts for me tomorrow, and midterms are in two weeks. So... I'll try and work on the new chapters every night, but no guarantees on when this story will be finished. I think we're in the final five chapters now, maybe a few more. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support!!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His parents were bound to discover his lies sooner or later. It was a long time coming. However... that didn't stop it from hurting.

For quite a few minutes, Yuuri didn’t have a chance to speak as his mother shrieked at him. Her words were jumbled - either Yuuri was too shocked to process them, or she was too enraged to speak coherently.

Finally, his father stopped her. “Hiroko…”

“Don’t!” she shouted, pulling her arm away. She made a violent gesture towards the printouts laying on the table. “Yuuri, I’m going to ask one more time. _What the hell is this?!”_

Yuuri’s eyes were wide and his face was blank. He couldn’t feel his hands.

“You’ve been… been _dancing_ again _,_ you’ve been _lying_ to my face, for… for _months?!”_

What could he say to that…? Yuuri kept his expression flat.

“My friends, they’ve been emailing me nonstop since this morning about you!” Her face was bright red. “All so excited, asking if I’m going to Nationals to watch… All these letters in the mail! And I couldn’t respond to any of them, because I couldn’t tell them that my own son _never told me about his career!!”_

His father tried again. “Hiroko.”

“No!” His mother turned away, shaking. “I… I… can’t believe it. I can’t.”

Yuuri’s eyes stung. He opened his mouth, closed it. Hoarsely he managed: “Mom…”

“How could you lie to me?” she whispered. “You said you were studying, but in reality you were training for competitions.” Her voice became angrier again. “You used Viktor to help you lie to us. You used him to-”

“Hiroko!”

Yuuri started crying; he couldn’t stop himself.

“And that’s not all!” She held up a sheet of paper that wasn’t a letter but a printout. “Your SAT scores came in, and you barely got a 1200! Did you study at all…?!”

He was numb. Completely numb.

His mother shook her head in an almost frenzied way. “You lied to us, Yuuri. I can’t believe… Why…? Why did you keep this from us?”

“I… I…!” Yuuri’s hands flexed and clenched into fists. “Because I knew that… you’d stop me!” he forced out. “I knew you’d think I was being stupid, that my dancing doesn’t matter!”

“Is your _dancing_ going to get you into a good school? Is it going to bring your grades up?” she snapped.

Yuuri pressed a hand to his mouth and sobbed, chest tightening.

“You’re throwing away your future!”

“No, Mom!” Yuuri cried, eyes closed, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m throwing away the future _you_ want me to have. Because _I don’t want it!”_

Yuuri distinctly heard his parents both suck in a breath. He slumped against the wall and sat down, pulled his knees to his chest and cried, hands covering his face. For a while his father whispered to his mother. Yuuri heard them go into the other room. His father was talking quietly, but he could make out some of what his mother was saying.

“He’s not thinking rationally! Yuuri is too young to make these decisions for-”

“Yuuri is eighteen, honey, and-”

Their voices faded in and out.

Yuuri wished he could curl into a ball and disappear.

Instead, gasping for breath, he pulled himself to his feet, picked up his backpack, and dragged himself up the stairs and into his bedroom.

His cellphone vibrated. Yuuri threw it onto his bed, shucked off his jacket and shirt and threw them across the room. The tears were subsiding, and his head was spinning. Downstairs, his mother had started shouting again.

Yuuri crawled under the covers.

His cellphone vibrated again.

Eyes burning, Yuuri reached for it, squinted at the screen.

It was a text from Viktor. _Sleep well, moya lyubov. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we’ll get a good night’s rest before Nationals. I’m so proud of you._

 

That was his breaking point.

 

Yuuri’s face crumpled, and he bawled into his pillow.

 

~

 

Yuuri had fallen asleep sometime around midnight from sheer exhaustion. The first thing he registered when he woke up was the stiffness of dry salt on his cheeks.

The second thing he registered was that his father was standing over him.

“Dad-” Yuuri started, scrambling to sit up.

His father put a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

Rubbing at the crust on his eyelashes, Yuuri stared at his dad, uncomprehending, as he produced a pair of car keys and a small envelope from his pockets.

Yuuri’s father sat down on the edge of Yuuri’s bed and pushed the objects into Yuuri’s hands. Leaning forward, he spoke to Yuuri in an undertone:

“Your mother is dead asleep… she wore herself out.” There was a smile in his quiet voice. “These are the keys to my car, and in the envelope is $750 in cash, to pay Viktor back for the airfare.”

“Dad-”

“Shh.” His father’s eyes were soft. “I know how much this means to you,” he whispered. “I don’t mind if your mother is angry at me.”

“But-”

“No buts.”

Yuuri’s eyes were brimming with tears. “Dad… thank you. Thank you so much…!”

“You’ve worked hard for this, son. I’ll be watching your performance, and who knows? Maybe your mother will join me.” He winked. “She’s a stubborn one, but I know she’ll come around. I think she was just shocked.”

“Weren’t you?” Yuuri blurted.

“No. I knew since your win at the Inter-State competition.”

Yuuri blinked.

“I was more surprised that you were dating Viktor.” His dad couldn’t seem to hold back a chuckle. “Your mother said I was a numbskull. She knew that all along.”

Yuuri smiled at that, ruefully.

His father stood up. “Get dressed, and get your suitcase. I’ll lock the door behind you and explain everything to your mother when she wakes up.”

Dressing quickly and quietly, Yuuri picked up his suitcase and headed for the door. He doubled back to grab his cellphone and went downstairs, wincing at every creak on the steps.

The clock on the wall read 6:00 AM. His parents knew that the competition was mere days away, and his father must have anticipated that Viktor booked them an early flight…

“How did you know about my flight?” Yuuri asked his dad in a low voice.

“You told me last night.” Two pieces of toast were pushed into Yuuri’s hands.

“Huh? I did?”

“I came in at about two o’clock, woke you up, and asked you what time your flight was. You said it was at nine, but you had to meet Viktor at seven, and then you started crying…” His dad scratched the back of his head. “I tried to calm you down, but you conked out pretty quickly.”

“S-sorry about that…” Yuuri mumbled, taking a bite of his breakfast.

“Hurry and get to your friend… Viktor, right?”

Yuuri nodded.

“Where are you leaving the car?”

“I can w-”

“No, you’re not walking, it’s too cold. Where are you leaving the car?”

“Bailey’s.” Yuuri sighed.

“Good boy.” Yuuri’s dad smiled. “Get going. Text me when you arrive in London.”

“I will.” Yuuri slid on his sneakers, then paused. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, son. We’ll be cheering for you!”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, and he stepped out into the early morning light.

 

~

 

The sight of Viktor’s car running in front of Bailey’s was welcome. Yuuri parked a few spaces away and left the key in the ignition.

“Yuuri!” Viktor left the shelter of his car to embrace him. “Whose car is that?” he asked, pulling back and smiling.

His face fell. “Have you been… crying?”

“I’ll tell you everything on the way,” Yuuri assured him.

Viktor was careful on the icy roads, but kept glancing at Yuuri. It took a minute for Yuuri to gather his thoughts. He took a deep breath.

“I told my parents,” he said.

At the exact same time, Viktor blurted “Did I do something?”

Yuuri’s head whipped around. “No! No, Viktor, it’s not you at all! I told my parents last night.”

“Sorry,” Viktor murmured. “I was afraid… anyways. How did it go? Not very well…?”

“Not very well,” Yuuri said, checking his face in the rearview mirror. His eyes were a little bloodshot. “My mom freaked out. She said I was putting my future in jeopardy and stuff.”

“She really said that?” A corner of Viktor’s mouth tugged upwards.

“Something like that,” Yuuri conceded. “She was upset… I thought I was going to have to sneak out in the morning, but I didn’t know whether they’d catch me or not…” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, my dad woke me up this morning and told me he knew all along, and let me borrow his car.”

Viktor kept his eyes ahead, but he was smiling, dolorously. Yuuri could see it, though a stranger might not have: his eyebrows were tense, and his lips were trembling slightly, and his eyes…

“I’m glad,” Viktor said at last.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked.

“Me? Yes. I’m fine.”

Yuuri didn’t believe him for a second.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you guys go! Hope that went a little better than you expected ;)
> 
> A few things: 
> 
> Next chapter will cover the plane ride and their hotel stay the night before Nationals. I promise I'll explain Viktor's odd behavior! Then... Nationals! I hope you're all as psyched as I am. 
> 
> I based Yuuri's conflict with his parents from, ahem, personal experience. Enough said. My conflict was a bit more drastic and it was over something much less important ¬_¬
> 
> Also, 8,000 views?!? I'm so flattered... I hope I can measure up to your expectations ಠ~ಠ


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes on an airplane for the first time, and Viktor falls asleep on him. At the hotel, they end up bonding instead of sleeping, and Viktor reveals more about his past.

Getting through security was a hassle, mostly because people kept stopping Viktor and Yuuri for photographs and autographs. (Most of the autographs were given by Viktor, but Yuuri signed quite a few as well.) It seemed like many people at the airport were fans of competitive dance and were headed to London themselves. The whole process took at least two times longer than it should have.

Yuuri was a little nervous, since he’d never been on an airplane before. Viktor assured him that it was all really boring. They stopped at one of the overpriced convenience stores in the terminal and bought a few packs of gum for the trip, because Viktor had explained that chewing gum helps keep your ears from popping when the pressure changed.

Viktor had gotten them there early, so they sat at their gate for a while. Yuuri reached into his backpack and produced a set of earbuds and a novel.

“Is that… Yuuri, is that the book I gave you for Christmas?” Viktor asked, grinning.

“Maybe,” Yuuri muttered.

Viktor’s grin broadened as Yuuri opened _Doctor Zhivago_ to the front page.

“This… this is…”

Yuuri glowered as Viktor burst into peals of laughter.

“It’s in Russian,” Yuuri deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry, I had to!” Viktor’s shoulders shook with mirth. “I thought I could teach you some basic words, but I figured you hadn’t even opened the book yet, so…”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“I could read to you,” Viktor offered.

“Maybe at the hotel.” Yuuri reddened. “I can’t hear you well enough here.”

Viktor’s voice was smooth as silk. “If you’d like, I could read to you in Russian.”

_I might actually die if you do that._

“Maybe,” Yuuri said.

 

~

 

Viktor fell asleep on the plane mere minutes after takeoff. He lifted the armrest between them, leaned over, and fell dead asleep on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to wake him. Or move, for that matter. After the first few minutes, he got a little more comfortable, but it was still flustering to have your godlike coach fall asleep on you…

As soon as the plane touched down, Yuuri took his phone off airplane mode, and texts from Yuuko started pouring in.

_Yuuri, you freaking jerk!! How dare you not tell me about Viktor being your coach!! I mean, the whole school already knew you were dating, but STILL. You’re probably on the plane to London right now. Ugh! Text me!_

_Who told you?_ Yuuri typed.

 _Your dad clued me in. I found the videos of your performances on YouTube._ She paused, and then, rapid-fire: _I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!! I could’ve gotten some awesome pictures if you’d let me come along!! How did you do it?_

 _I practiced with Viktor every day after school,_ Yuuri admitted. _And, y’know, at home and stuff._

_Are you in England right now?_

_Yeah._

_Where’s Viktor?_

_Asleep on my arm._

Yuuko paused again. _OMG, TAKE A PICTURE!_

_What?! No way!!_

“Ladies and gentlemen, all of us at the airline would like to welcome you to London. The current temperature is 18 degrees Celsius, and the humidity is 68%. We hope you have a-”

Yuuri stopped listening to text Yuuko. _Sorry, gotta go._

_Oh, okay. Keep me posted!! Or I’ll kill you!! :)_

He believed her. _I will!! Don’t kill me!! :)_

The plane pulled up to the gate, and a flight attendant passed by, headed to the rear.

“Might want to wake up your boyfriend, honey,” she said, and winked as she left.

Yuuri was having a hard time not getting flustered and denying Viktor was his boyfriend. Because… Viktor _was_ his boyfriend.

“Hey, Viktor.” Yuuri turned and patted his shoulder. Viktor’s head lolled to the side, and he flopped onto Yuuri’s lap.

“Viktor,” Yuuri tried again, wincing as his voice cracked on the last syllable.

“Hmmm…?” Viktor sighed and nuzzled Yuuri’s leg.

The man across the aisle shot him an odd look.

“Viktor, we’re about to get off. Come on.”

Viktor moaned. “Whyyyy…”

“You can sleep in the cab.” Yuuri shook Viktor’s shoulder. "Viktor, I don’t know where the hotel is!”

No answer.

Time for drastic measures.

Yuuri dug two fingers in the weak point between Viktor’s ribcage and hips, and Viktor shrieked.

“Wake up!”

“I’m up, I’m up! That was a rude awakening!”

“You weren’t going to cooperate otherwise.”

“I would have!”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows.

“I _would_ have,” Viktor insisted.

“Whatever you say.” Yuuri stood up and reached into the overhead compartment. “Come on. We’ve got a taxi to catch.”

 

~

 

“The Committee is sending a car to our hotel tomorrow,” Viktor said, “at around nine. The competitions start at ten.”

“So how does this all work?” Yuuri was laying on his stomach, staring out the window and past the balcony at the London skyline, backlit by a vague sunset.

“You mean Nationals?” Viktor was texting someone, but he glanced over at Yuuri every few sentences. “Well, the solo and duo performances are done in front of a small crowd and the panel of judges, and then the winners of each category perform in front of the whole stadium.”

“Stadium…?” Yuuri looked away from the view. “Where, specifically, are we going?”

“The O2 arena.”

Yuuri sat bolt upright. “Viktor, that place is huge! How big is this event?!”

“Oh, it depends.” Viktor’s tone was far too casual for Yuuri’s taste. “Usually the seats aren’t even all filled. Besides, there’s no guarantee that you’ll win any events, right?”

“Ouch.” Yuuri folded his arms.

“Nationals is a huge event, _moya lyubov._ It involves the whole world. People come from all around to watch the performances.”

Yuuri tried not to be intimidated by that. He frowned. “You never did tell me what those words mean.”

“I didn’t, did I? All I did was trick you into admitting your love for me,” Viktor recalled.

“It was one of t-the first phrases I l-learned!”

 _“Moya lyubov_ means “my love,”” Viktor said.

“That’s a little bit i-intimate, isn’t it…?”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s pretty straightforward,” Yuuri murmured.

“Mm, that’s about the only thing about me that’s straight,” Viktor answered.

 

“Viktor!” Yuuri groaned, and Viktor howled with laughter.

 

~

 

“It’s getting late,” Yuuri said, not bothering to look at the clock.

“Yeah, it is.”

“I should read to you,” Viktor said.

“No… later.”

“Why?” Viktor pouted.

“I’m too comfy to get up. And it’s dark.”

Yuuri rolled over and snuggled closer to Viktor. Looking up into his blue eyes, Yuuri put on a pleading expression. “Say it again.”

“Hm?”

“Say “my love” in Russian,” Yuuri begged.

_“Moya lyubov.”_

The words felt odd in Yuuri’s mouth. “Moyah… loubof.”

“Not bad,” Viktor said, and Yuuri couldn’t tell if he was lying. “Try it again. _Moya… lyubov.”_

After many flubbed attempts, Yuuri managed it.

_“Moya lyubov.”_

Viktor smiled.

 

“Viktor?”

“Yes?”

Yuuri hated to break the peaceful silence between them, but something had been nagging at him since the morning. “This morning… when I told you about my parents. How my dad helped me? You, um… you… you were sad.”

Viktor had been tracing patterns on Yuuri’s back, but when Yuuri said that, his hands stilled.

Yuuri was seconds away from taking it back when Viktor spoke.

“I was… remembering.”

Yuuri looked up at him again. “Remembering what?”

“Remembering…” Viktor closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “When I told my parents.”

“You-”

“Yes, I did the same thing you did,” said Viktor. “I trained under a coach, too, without telling my parents.”

He was silent for a second. Weight pressed down on Yuuri’s chest.

“Uhm…” Yuuri didn’t want to ask the question, mostly out of fear of the answer.

“They didn’t take it well, if that’s what you’re asking,” Viktor said in a flat voice.

“I… ‘m sorry,” Yuuri offered.

Viktor shook his head. “It’s fine.”

Yuuri didn’t reply. He felt like Viktor wanted to keep going.

“It’s just… I wish they’d… heard me out. Came to one of my competitions…”

“What happened?”

It was like uncorking a pressurized bottle - everything came pouring out at once.

“They disowned me, Yuuri!” Immediately, tears started pouring down Viktor’s face. “I told them about my dancing, and I told them about my sexuality, and they hate me…!”

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor’s shoulders, and Viktor sobbed into the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

“My father told me that he hadn’t birthed a girl and I should stop acting like one, and my mother said that I was a disgrace to the Nikiforov name, and they threw me out of the house, and they called the school and told them not to let me on campus because I would attack the male students-”

“Oh my god, Viktor,” Yuuri whispered. Not knowing what to do, he pressed his body closer and held on tighter.

“It was horrible.” Viktor sniffed, sobs subsiding into quiet shakes. “I lived with Yakov for the next three years as I trained and competed. He… never charged me a cent.”

“And then you came to America?” Yuuri began tracing gentle circles on Viktor’s shoulderblades.

“Mm hm. Your school offered me a scholarship, in fact.”

“Huh? Really?!”

Viktor nodded. “I told Yakov I wanted to finish high school, but I wanted to go to college in America, so he sent off a message to some of the best schools on the east coast, public and private.”

“Why the east coast?”

“You’d have to ask Yakov.” Viktor, in turn, snuggled up to Yuuri’s chest. His silver hair ticked Yuuri’s chin. “Your school was one of the ones offering free boarding, which is how I got the apartment I’m living in now. I looked for schools that would allow enrollment without the involvement of biological parents, too, and the administration was very accommodating. When Yakov showed me the list of schools he liked and that fit the criteria, I picked yours.”

“Why?” Yuuri couldn’t help asking.

Viktor pulled away and smiled tremulously, face streaked with tears but breathtakingly beautiful. “It felt right. My intuition usually serves me well.”

“I think it served you pretty well in that case.” Yuuri lifted a hand and caressed Viktor’s face, thumb brushing his cheekbone and wiping away water.

“I agree.”

Viktor sighed and rubbed at his eyes, drawing back a few inches. “Sorry. I freaked out. I’m okay now.”

Yuuri followed him, inching forward, and lifted a hand to Viktor’s hair, smoothing it down. “Thank you for telling me. I hope you feel better.”

“There’s nothing as refreshing as a good cry.”

Yuuri grimaced. “You’re telling me.”

Viktor looked at the clock and cringed. “We really need to sleep now. You need rest for tomorrow - almost _today,_ now.”

“So do you.” Yuuri brushed Viktor’s bangs back.

“What are you doing…?”

“I want to see your eyes.”

Viktor gazed at him, and Yuuri saw his eyes.

“Beautiful,” he blurted.

“Thank you,” Viktor said, glancing down and away. It was dark, but Yuuri could see the vulnerable quirk of his eyebrows.

“Viktor.” Yuuri leaned closer, and their breaths intermingled.

“It’s late, Yuuri…”

“Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t need permission to-”

“Please?”

Viktor smiled again, for real. “Any time, Yuuri. Like I said, you-”

Yuuri closed the gap, and by midnight, they had fallen asleep with noses touching.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hotel scene was hard to write - Viktor really, really doesn't like talking about his past with his family, but he opened up to Yuuri and their relationship is stronger for it. I hope this chapter cleared up some things about Viktor's attending Yuuri's school! Really, though, their meeting was pure serendipity... that's part of the beauty of it :)
> 
> Hoping to update about every other day until midterms... No guarantees this'll be done by then, though =~= Still at least four more chapters left. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me thus far! Shoutout to the person who has commented and supported a lot of my recent chapters... Kepler_16B, thank you very much!! And a huge thanks to everyone else who's commented - your words and feedback are huge for me.
> 
> One last thing: herstrawberrypizza, on Chapter 23 you made a prediction. You were right <3
> 
> Again, thanks for all the support! This is my first time writing for a big audience... and it's a gift to have this audience :)


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nationals Pt. 1 - Yuuri and Viktor arrive at the O2 arena and run into some old friends...

Viktor let Yuuri sleep in a little late, and rushed them from the hotel room. They were on time to meet the car, barely, at nine o’clock. Viktor had insisted they grab something from the breakfast buffet, so Yuuri had taken a bagel and Viktor had taken a small cereal box.

“You’ll eat it without milk or anything?” If Yuuri was an anime character, he would’ve sweatdropped.

“Sure! Why not?”

The ride to the arena was too short. 

Yuuri stared up at the dome, heart already beginning to pound double-time. Thousands of people milled about, waiting for the doors to open.

“Follow me. Performers have a side entrance.”

Viktor held onto Yuuri’s hand and cut a path through the crowd. They reached a metal door, and Viktor pushed it open, beckoning Yuuri forward.

Inside, there was a short hallway that opened up into a wide room lined with doors. It looked like the center of an office complex. There stood the vast majority of Yuuri’s competition: dancers, all of them warming up, chatting, listening to music, intimidating him without even acknowledging him.

“Hey.” Viktor put an arm around Yuuri’s waist and leaned close to his ear. “Calm down. Everything’s fine. Let’s find somewhere and get stretched out, hmm? Duo performances are first, and we need to get changed before ten-fifteen.”

Yuuri took a few deep breaths, pulling his thoughts together. “Do you have the times for our performances?”

“We’ll get a list when we sign in. Come on.”

They found the sign-in desk with some difficulty. (There were signs everywhere, but there were also people everywhere, most of them blocking the walls and signs.) 

A man smiled at them from across the table. “Welcome back, Viktor. Who’s this?”

“My boyfriend, and also my protege.” Viktor picked up a clipboard and wrote down his name, and then Yuuri’s underneath. “Do you have a schedule for us?”

“Wouldn’t be much of an official if I didn’t.” The man handed a sheet of paper to Viktor. “Your duo ballroom is first, and then your duo specific. I see you’re not doing any solo events this year?”

Viktor put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yuuri is doing two solos, and I think you’ll find that he’s at my level.”

“Oh? Well, then. I can’t wait to see your routines,” the man said, this time to Yuuri. 

“I’ll try m-my best…”

“Yuuri’s too modest.” Viktor’s hand snaked around Yuuri’s shoulders, and he leaned on him, flashing the man a winning smile. “He’s magnificent. You’ll see.  _ Do svidaniya!” _

“That means goodbye,” he told Yuuri as they headed towards a set of benches.

“I know  _ that.”  _ Yuuri huffed.

Yuuri tried not to watch the clock, but as the long hand slid slowly towards the twelve, he was getting anxious. He stretched out as best he could, mimicking Viktor as he used the wall to stretch his shoulders. They sat down across from one another and into a straddle position, and then took turns pushing the other’s legs further out.

“Mm, Yuuri, you’re blushing,” Viktor said at one point.

“This is kind of a w-weird thing to d-do in public!”

“Everyone is stretching out, Yuuri. Nobody’s judging you.” 

Yuuri was sure the second part, at least, wasn’t true. Yuuri was the one facing the crowd, back against the wall, and the amount of stares they were getting was unnerving-

Viktor grasped Yuuri’s hands and pushed his legs into a 160 degree position, and Yuuri squeaked. “Ow!” (He was more surprised than hurt, though, and Viktor knew it.)

“Sorry,” Viktor said, smirking. 

Yuuri looked over the top of his glasses and saw someone approaching. Several someones, actually, all coming up behind Viktor.

“Viktor-” Yuuri started to say.

“Viktor!” called an unfamiliar voice.

Yuuri watched as Viktor’s eyes widened in shock. He let go of Yuuri’s hands, whirling around and standing in one fluid motion.

“Yakov!” Viktor threw his arms around the shoulders of a shorter man.

Yuuri scrambled to his feet, taking in the scene in front of him. Viktor was hugging a person - Yakov, apparently, with great enthusiasm, and a few other people were coming up behind them. A severe-looking woman with a bun and bright lipstick was holding the hand of a grumpy-looking boy with blonde hair nearly to his shoulders. Two others (dancers, Yuuri presumed) trailed her, a girl with red hair and a boy with a brooding look on his face.

“I can’t believe it! Why are you here?” 

“I do have other students, you know.” Yakov’s voice was gruff. He said something else in rapid-fire Russian that Yuuri couldn’t understand.

“Of course I am! I wouldn’t drop out of dance that easily.” Viktor backed up, and Yuuri, in a fit of possessiveness, snagged the sleeve of his coat.

“Is this the famous Yuuri?” the redheaded girl asked.

“The one and only!” Viktor beamed.

All of a sudden, the child ripped his hand away from the woman’s, stalked up to Viktor, and kicked him in the shin.

“Ouch, Yuri, that hurt-”

“He’s  _ not _ the one and only!” the child growled in accented English.

Yuuri stared, wide-eyed, as Viktor kneeled down. “Sorry, Yuri. I almost forgot about my favorite singer.”

“Don’t call me that!” Yuri went to punch Viktor, but the woman seized him by the arm and pulled him back.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked.

“Fine. He’s a tough one.” Viktor stood, keeping his wincing to a minimum. “Yuuri, this is Yuri, the little genius of dance.”

Yuuri looked down at the boy and smiled, warily. “Hi. Nice to meet you. Viktor told me about you.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Yuri scowled.

“Yuuri, this is Yakov and Lilia, the co-coaches of Russian Yuri. Yakov is my former coach.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Yuuri offered Yakov his hand.

“Likewise.” Yakov had a thick Russian accent, and his grip was firm. Lilia didn’t offer any words, but shook Yuuri’s hand.

“This is-”

“I’m Mila,” the red-haired girl said. “So we have two Yuri’s now? I guess we’ll call our Yuri something else. Maybe…  _ kotenok?” _

“That means ‘kitten,’” Viktor whispered to Yuuri.

“I’ll kill you,” Yuri promised.

“Fine, then something else. How about-”

The other boy stepped closer as Yuri and Mila bickered. “I’m Georgi. Good meeting you.”

They shook hands, and Yuuri smiled shyly. “Are you competing?”

“Yes, Mila and I are competing,” Georgi said. “Yuri’s too young but Yakov wanted him to see what competition is like.”

“He’s a prodigy?” Yuuri remembered what Viktor had told him earlier in the school year.

“You could say that. He’s also very fussy.” Georgi looked to Viktor. “Think he misses you more than he lets on.”

They spoke in Russian for a moment. Yuuri was about to interject when Viktor took his hand.

“It’s good to see you all, but it’s coming up on ten and we need to get changed for our first event.”

“What events are you doing?” Yakov asked.

“Two duos with Yuuri.” Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “And he is doing two solos. He worked very hard on them, so I hope you’ll all cheer him on.”

“Good luck!” Mila chirped.

“Break a leg,” muttered Yuri.

“Yuri, that’s not nice,” Lilia said, voice laced with poison.

_ “Do svidaniya!”  _ Yuuri called back, and was pleased to see the mild shock on their faces.

Viktor pulled Yuuri towards the changing rooms, and Yuuri stifled a smile. “That was nice of Yuri to wish us well.”

“Oh, no, I think he was serious.”

Yuuri sighed. “I figured. He’s really the one who sang the agape piece?”

“Yes, but please don’t mention it to him. He doesn’t like remembering it. Last time I brought it up, he broke two of my fingers.”

“Yuuri!”

Again? Yuuri turned around and saw-

“Phichit!” he exclaimed, and Phichit pulled him into a hug. “You’re here, too!”

“Of course I am!” Phichit fished his cell phone out of his pocket. “Selfie! Smile, Yuuri!”

Yuuri smiled awkwardly, and Celestino butted into the picture, grinning.

“Hey, no photobombing!” Phichit complained.

“It’s been a long time,” Yuuri said, grasping Celestino’s hand.

“I’ll say. Last time I saw you was middle school at the ice rink!” Celestino laughed. His eyes landed on Viktor.

“Who’s this?”

“This is Viktor,” Phichit said before Yuuri could speak. “We met briefly at prelims.”

“Viktor? Viktor Nikiforov?”

“That’s me,” Viktor said.

Celestino shook his hand. “I’ve heard lots of good things about you. I’m sure Yuuri is thriving under your care. You’re his coach?”

“Yes, that’s one of my titles.” Viktor smiled sweetly and twined his fingers through Yuuri’s. “We’re also dating.”

“Yuuri, you never mentioned-”

“We weren’t, um, dating at that point,” Yuuri interrupted him, face aflame.

“Aw, cute!” Phichit barged between them. “One more! Smile, boys! This is going straight to Instagram.”

“Add me!” Viktor said, whipping out his phone.

Yuuri yelped and hid his face in Viktor’s shoulder.

“Hashtag goals.”

Celestino sighed. “Come on, Phichit, we should get ready. Your solo performance is in less than an hour.”

“I’ll be cheering for you, Yuuri!” Phichit called, voice fading.

Yuuri peeked up. “Is he gone?”

“He’s gone.” Viktor booped his nose, and Yuuri’s face reddened once again.

“You’re too cute, Yuuri.” Viktor scrolled through his Instagram feed. “Oh, and Phichit uploaded those selfies. Screenshotting…”

“Viktorrr,” Yuuri moaned.

“Let’s go! We can’t be late for our first event!”

Trying in vain to combat the blush spreading across his face, Yuuri followed Viktor into the changing rooms.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per Spiderchel's request, a new chapter is up tonight! There will be three parts total to Nationals - the next part covers all four performances and the awards ceremony, and the third and last part covers the hours between the winners exhibitions, and... the winners exhibitions.
> 
> Note: I know almost nothing about the O2 Arena, only what I've seen and read online. If anyone has been there and knows first-hand facts about it, don't be shy and drop some facts! I'd really appreciate it. Comments are life to us fanfiction writers :)


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nationals Pt. 2 - Viktor and Yuuri perform, and unforeseen circumstances arise...

They stood in front of the judges, hands intertwined. The room was relatively small, and there was a section for people who had paid extra to view the performances.

Yuuri glanced over at Viktor. He looked amazing in his white suit. Yuuri was glad he was wearing the black one - he didn’t trust himself not to sweat through it.

‘Waltz of the Flowers’ drifted through the speakers, and Viktor spun Yuuri to face him. Yuuri was immediately lost in Viktor’s eyes, and their feet moved in synch, and the piece practically flew by. By the end, Yuuri couldn’t have said exactly what the choreography was, but he ended up with his body pressed close to Viktor’s by the time the final note played.

“You did that on purpose,” Yuuri accused quietly, brushing some hair away from his face as the crowd clapped politely.

“And if I said I did?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, blushing, and one of the judges cleared their throat, a signal for them to move along. They hurried from the room to change into their next costumes.

 

~

 

The next room was a bit larger, and by the time they reached it they were both winded from running. Luckily, they were two minutes early, and the judges hadn’t come back from their break.

“You look amazing,” Viktor said, guiding Yuuri to the center of the floor.

“Thank you.” Yuuri’s eyes darted around the room. “The crowd is bigger.”

“Good.” Viktor closed his hands around Yuuri’s. “You’re the leader here. They want to see our performance.”

“They want to see _you.”_

“And they will. But they will also see _you._ Show them, Yuuri. Show them the music you make with your body.”

“It’s for you,” said Yuuri, hands shaking but voice miraculously steady. “It’s always been for you. I lied, when you asked me… before. You’re my muse, Viktor. No one else.”

“I guessed.” Viktor smiled. “Show me as well, Yuuri. I don’t want them to have all of you.”

Yuuri’s face was burning. A confession? Really!? _Now??_

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Viktor begged. “This performance is going to be awe-inspiring, Yuuri, and you’re the catalyst. Light us on fire for them.”

“I knew you were a poet.”

“Only when it comes to dance.”

“Music in ten,” one of the judges called out, and Yuuri pushed away from Viktor.

“See you in a minute,” he said, and turned away to take his place on the opposite side of the room…

 

Separated from Viktor, Yuuri knew that all eyes were on him. He was front-and-center, and Viktor was waiting in the background. He curved his body, letting the longing and loneliness show through the moves of his arms, the light touches of his feet.

A second voice joined the first, and Viktor was there. Yuuri took his hands, and they spun across the floor. A few times, they lifted one another, toes ghosting across the wood but always touching down. They were always touching.

The song wound down, and they took each other into their arms, finishing with Yuuri dipping Viktor deeply as the final note rang out.

The room burst into applause.

Viktor’s chest heaved. Yuuri watched a single bead of sweat run into the fabric of his jacket.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed.

Viktor smiled, breathless, cheeks pink.

 

~

 

There was a thirty-minute gap between their last duo piece and Yuuri’s first solo piece, his ballet routine.

“Yuuri, there’s absolutely no reason to be anxious,” Viktor said for the tenth time as Yuuri struggled with the straps of his ballet slippers.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Yuuri stood and fumbled with the zipper on the back of his leotard. “Unzip me. I need to put on more deodorant.”

Viktor sighed, and he pulled the zipper down as per Yuuri’s request. His fingers lingered for a second, but Yuuri quickly moved away, applying deodorant and zipping himself back into his costume.

“It’s time,” Viktor said softly.

Yuuri followed him to the performance room.

This room was the smallest so far, with a crowd of about thirty or forty and a smaller judge’s panel. Viktor patted Yuuri’s shoulder and went to stand with the audience, and something tugged in Yuuri’s stomach.

The first chords of the song rang out, and by force of habit Yuuri began his routine, first position through fifth, back to first. He tried to remember joy - that was the theme of the song, pure and unbridled joy at being alive. He tried to imagine what he looked like in the studio, dancing without knowing Viktor was watching.

His routine was fine, but Yuuri was analyzing every tiny thing, and he kept falling off the beat. As the song peaked and he jumped, landed, the song stopped, and Yuuri knew that he was not going to place.

Everyone clapped, and Yuuri rushed from the room, shining decals flashing like warning signs as he ran.

 

~

 

“Yuuri!”

He could hear Viktor calling out to him, but he didn’t answer. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, hands clenching on his knees.

“Yuuri, please!”

Yuuri couldn’t hold back a whimper. His glasses were dotted with tears. He was hyperventilating, chest tight, hands closed even tighter.

The stall door squeaked. “Yuuri, I know you’re in there.”

“Leave me alone!”

There was a shuffling noise, and when Yuuri looked up he saw Viktor had crawled underneath the gap between the door and the floor.

“Yuuri, calm down.” Viktor’s hands were a reassuring weight on his shoulders.

“Viktor, that was _terrible.”_ Yuuri started tearing up again. “The audience was so small! How can anyone expect me to perform well when I just-”

“I expect you to perform well, because I know you can.” Viktor kneeled in front of him. “You got jittery. It happens to everyone. Now, you need to pull yourself together. You _know_ you can do this, Yuuri. You’ve shown me countless times.”

Yuuri sniffed and shook his head.

Viktor was silent for a moment.

Finally, he stood and let go of Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Alright. It’s your choice. I hope you’re happy with it.”

There was a click, and a bang as the restroom door slammed.

 

For a moment, Yuuri was frozen. It felt like his heart had stopped beating.

Viktor had…

Given up on him?

 

Heat surged in his heart, and he bolted to his feet.

 

Running down the hall, Yuuri glanced at the clock. He had ten minutes before his performance. If he was quick, he could get into his costume and to the judging room with a minute or so to spare.

He threw open the locker door and fished out his costume. Not bothering to use the bathroom, he stripped and stepped into the legs, pulled his arms through the sleeves-

Hands touched his back, and Yuuri stilled.

“Let me help,” Viktor murmured, zipping up the back of his costume. His fingers really lingered, tracing lines down his spine. Yuuri shivered, and another bolt of heat struck his chest.

He whirled and pushed Viktor against the opposite row of lockers.

Viktor’s eyes were wide and bottomless.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, and he could feel the warmth of Viktor’s breath on his face.

“For… for what?” Viktor’s eyes were rooted to Yuuri’s lips.

“For inspiring me,” Yuuri said. He tried to convey several different things with those three words, and wondered how many meanings Viktor caught on to.

“I…”

“Cat got your tongue?” Yuuri leaned even closer. “Or… is it just me?”

He was pleased to see that Viktor was at a loss for words.

Yuuri licked his lips and, all at once, surged forward. Yuuri pinned Viktor to the wall, pressing their legs together, hands tangling, lips crashing. Viktor’s eyelashes fluttered, and Yuuri was so hypersensitive that he felt the brush of air on his cheek.

He hummed and traced Viktor’s lower lip with his tongue. Viktor moaned.

“Hmm.” Yuuri pulled back. “You want me to miss my performance?”

Viktor’s head tipped back, and he panted. Adrenaline shot through Yuuri’s veins.

He leaned in and grazed Viktor’s neck with several light kisses, then pulled away.

“Don’t be late.” He took a hand and swept his hair back.

He called over his shoulder. “I’m seducing you, remember?”

 

~

 

Thirty seconds before Yuuri’s performance was scheduled to start, Viktor burst into the room. Yuuri watched as he, as Yuuri had, took in the huge crowd. Yuuri guessed most people had heard this routine had a sexual theme and wanted to see if Yuuri could pull it off.

Viktor stared at him, and Yuuri smiled, innocence painting his features.

“Ten seconds,” a judge said through the microphone, and the crowd went silent.

Yuuri planted his feet and listened to the pounding of his heart. He recalled how powerful, how dominant he’d felt, kissing Viktor. His heart pounded faster.

 

The instruments played a sultry tune, and Yuuri dragged his arms across his body. He smirked at Viktor, who pressed his lips together.

 

The routine flew by. Yuuri felt the music in his bones and thought, for a moment, that Viktor was right - he _was_ able to make music with his body.

And just as Viktor had said, Yuuri was able to dance for Viktor and Viktor alone. It was like no one else was in the room, almost… except, Yuuri could feel their eyes on him, and instead of a hindrance, it spurred him on.

And just like that, it was over.

 

The crowd roared, and their applause was almost deafening. Yuuri smiled and waved, giddy with adrenaline.

Viktor was pushing his way through the mob of cheering people, and their eyes met for a minute. Yuuri turned to head towards the door. He walked past the judges, who were conversing in low voices, and was a few feet from the door when Viktor called out.

“Yuuri!”

He turned, and Viktor was running towards him.

Yuuri stopped walking and smiled - not a smirk, not a grin, but a genuine smile. “I did great, right?” he called as Viktor approached.

The room went dead silent as Viktor plowed into Yuuri and kissed him.

Yuuri’s entire body flushed red.

 

“Woo!” someone yelled, and the audience started screaming their approval.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, guys! 500 kudos and almost 9,000 views?!? I'm totally blown away...!!
> 
> Seriously, thank you so much. It makes me really happy that my writing makes other people happy!
> 
> Nationals Pt. 3 will be out soon, hopefully. We'll find out if Yuuri placed! (Let's be real here, we're going to find out which categories he placed in, and everyone can take a guess which ones ^-^) This fic won't be finished before my midterms - still have at four or so more chapters planned. 
> 
> Hope you all liked the taste of sexy katsudon this chapter... First venture into semi-sensual territory, so I hope I pulled it off alright >-< I'm not a smut writer and probably never will be... this chapter is pretty much my limit, haha. Anyways, see you guys at the next update!


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nationals Pt. 3 - The boys find out what categories they placed in, and perform at the winner's showcase.

“I don’t see why you’re so jittery,” Viktor said.

“Of course  _ you _ wouldn’t,” Yuuri grumbled. “You just kissed me in front of an entire crowd,  _ and _ a panel of judges.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“No, it’s not! I can’t believe you did that!”

Viktor shushed him. “They’re about to announce the results!”

A woman took to the podium, holding two manila envelopes, and tapped the microphone. “Your attention, please…”

Everyone went quiet. All of the dancers and their coaches were packed into a single room. Reporters and family members crowded the doorways. 

“As the president of the NDC, I would like to congratulate every single participant of this year’s National Dance Finals.” 

“People often cry if they don’t place,” Viktor confided.

Yuuri glared at him.

“But you’re not going to, because you’re going to place!” Viktor said hurriedly.

“Now, beginning in the junior section, ages 13-17… for duo specific, in third place we have-”

Yuuri’s phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket. Phichit had PMed him through Instagram.  _ Check my latest update!! _

Rolling his eyes, Yuuri typed in his passcode and opened the app. Phichit had posted a picture of-

“Phichit!” Yuuri exclaimed. 

(A few people growled at him to shut up.)

Viktor looked over. “What is it, Yuuri?”

Yuuri didn’t reply, eyes rooted to the picture on the screen of his phone… a picture of Viktor kissing him. And the angle… it was shot from the side?! How the hell…

“Well, there goes our little secret,” Viktor said.

“You kissed me in front of a room full of people,” Yuuri deadpanned.

“On to the senior section, ages 18-22… for duo specific, in third place-”

“Yuuri, pay attention.”

“I’m paying attention!”

“No, you’re not. You’re-”

“...and in first place we have Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki, with their piece “Duetto.” All participants who have placed, please come onstage to receive your awards!”

Yuuri gaped.

“Come on!” Viktor exclaimed, tugging him along.

The woman placed a small golden medal around Yuuri’s neck. “Congratulations,” she said. “I stopped by the room and saw the end of your performance. The two of you work very well together.”

Yuuri hoped she hadn’t seen the kiss. “Th-thank you…” 

“Please invite me to the wedding,” she said as she turned to the microphone.

It took all of Yuuri’s strength and self-control to keep from running offstage.

“A round of applause!” she called, and everyone cheered.

“What did she say?” Viktor asked as they left the stage.

“Nothing. Can we go?”

“Yuuri, they haven’t done the solo categories yet.”

“I won’t place,” Yuuri said.

“Somehow I doubt that.” Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and squeezed. “Please? Please indulge me? We’ll leave right afterwards. Anyways, we have to perform at the showcase tonight.”

“The  _ what?” _

“Yuuri,” Viktor chided. “Were you paying any attention at all…?”

“Um…”

“Everyone who places first in each of the six categories… solo classical, contemporary, and tap, and duo classica-”

“I know  _ that,”  _ Yuuri said.

“You didn’t let me finish. Everyone who places first is performing their piece tonight in the main arena.”

“What?!”

Yuuri’s exclamation was overtaken by the woman announcing his name. “Yuuri Katsuki, third place!”

“Go on, get up there!” Viktor urged. 

Again, Yuuri took to the stage, not entirely sure what he was getting a bronze medal for…

“Nice, very nice,” Viktor said once Yuuri returned.

“So.. what category was that? My eros routine?”

Viktor actually  _ blushed _ when Yuuri said the word “eros.”

“No,” he said quickly. “It was your ballet routine.”

“But it was…”

“Not joyful, but it was emotional.” Viktor leaned in a bit closer and whispered to him. “One of the judges took me aside afterwards and asked whether the theme was supposed to be haunting.”

“Haunting…?”

“You were consistently one beat behind, and your face was completely blank…” Viktor shrugged. “It was art, of a sort. Though you didn’t intend for it to be.”

Yuuri sighed. “I was scared. Well… I’m glad some people liked it…”

“Shh, they’re announcing solo contemporary!” 

“In third place, Phichit Chulanont and his routine to ‘Shall We Skate!’”

He caught Phichit’s eyes as he accepted his medal. Phichit grinned and waved, and Yuuri tried not to glower, thinking back to Phichit’s post.

“In second place, Christophe Giacometti and his routine to ‘Intoxicated!’”

“Oh, god, not that song,” Viktor groaned. “At least he didn’t win first.”

“In first place-”

Viktor clutched Yuuri’s arm.

“-Yuuri Katsuki, and his routine to ‘On Love: Eros!’”

“Go, go!” Viktor shoved him forward.

Yuuri knocked into approximately one-third of the crowd as he fumbled his way to the stage. A second gold medal was placed around his neck, and cameras flashed wildly, but Yuuri had only one thing on his mind:

He was going to have to perform his eros routine… in front of thousands of people… 

 

~

 

“Have you heard? Yuuri Katsuki is performing his routine in the O2 arena tonight!”

“What? Really? I saw the video… it was totally shaky and crappy, but damn. Sexy!!”

“I know, right?! I’m trying to borrow money from my mom to get tix.”

“I live way too far away… you’re so lucky.”

“She probably won’t lend me anything, though. Last I heard, the arena is almost sold out, and tickets are going for thousands of dollars…”

“At least we’ll get better qual footage on the news.”

“Yeah, at least… Well, talk to you later! If I can’t go, I’ll be livestreaming the event!”

“Okay, bye!”

 

Lutz and Loop were in charge of distracting Ms. Whittaker while Axel stole her laptop. Their mom had dropped them off at their babysitter’s house because she had to work a night shift, and the triplets planned on making the most of their time… by watching their idol’s performance. 

“Can’t wait!” Axel squealed, opening an incognito window.

Lutz was busy opening a bag of chips, and Loop was busy locking the door. They weren’t planning on giving up the laptop for a good, long while.

 

Hiroko finally picked up the frantically ringing phone. “Katsuki residence,” she said tiredly.

“It’s Minako! Have you heard?” her friend asked.

There were biscuits in the oven - Hiroko thought she smelled them burning. “Heard what?”

“Yuuri placed first in one of the solo categories!” Minako gushed. 

Hiroko dropped the phone. The biscuits could wait.

 

~

 

There was enough time for Yuuri’s costume to be taken out and dry-cleaned before his performance. Viktor decided their suits were fine and could be worn again without washing them.

“Good luck!” someone said for the umpteenth time.

Yuuri had stopped replying some time ago. 

“Your outfit is being delivered to the dressing room right now,  _ moya zvezda.” _

“What does that mean.”

“My star.” Viktor reached down and held Yuuri’s hand. “Hey. Yuuri.” His voice was soft, and his fingers tightened by fractions. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“You keep saying that, which is what makes me think everything is  _ not _ going to be fine,” Yuuri said flatly.

“When you get scared, you shut down.” Viktor nudged Yuuri with his shoulder. “Relax. I’ll be right nearby. You get through your solo piece, and I’ll meet you there for our duet.”

“You’ve said that a couple times,” Yuuri noted.

“Because you’re not listening, because you’re scared.” Viktor gave Yuuri a push towards the locker room. “Tap into your eros again, Yuuri. I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

Yuuri stood in front of his locker, staring but seeing nothing.

His phone rang. Without looking at the number on the screen, Yuuri picked up.

“Hello,” he said, voice dull.

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s blood ran cold.

“M… mom…?”

“Yuuri, thank god!” His mother’s voice was faintly staticky. “I’ve been trying to reach you for ages.”

“But…”

“You’re nervous,” she said immediately. “Don’t be.”

“It’s… it’s not that easy-” Yuuri started to protest.

“I know that I… haven’t been your biggest supporter,” she said in a rush. “In fact, I told you… to give up on your dream. I told you to quit doing what you love. I thought that… you were an academic. An intellectual.”

Yuuri didn’t know if he should feel insulted or not.

“But I… I know how much you love dancing. How much you care about Viktor. I… shouldn’t have said what I did. I… I’ll support you no matter what you choose, baby. I love you.”

“Mom…” Yuuri teared up.

“Everyone is getting ready to watch you. You’re at the O2 stadium, right? I’ve been watching the livestream. It’s big.”

“Uh… yeah…” Yuuri stuttered, anxiety flooding back into his system.

“I know you can do it!” she exclaimed. “Everyone is talking about how your theme is sexual love, and…”

Yuuri had never been more embarrassed.

“And I know how much you… love him. Viktor. I knew all along.”

“Dad told me,” Yuuri choked out, torn between mortification and tears.

“Think of him,” said his mother. “Think of him, block out the crowd, and do your best… I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Mom!”

“Now, hurry up and get ready! Your father and I will be cheering for you!”

There was a sound of shifting on the other end of the phone, and Yuuri’s dad’s voice rang out. “Good luck, son! You’re going to be amazing! We’ll be there in person next time!”

“Thanks, Dad!”

“Let him go, Toshiya, he’s going to be late!” More muffled noises. “We love you!”

“I love you, too!”

The call ended.

 

Viktor was standing, waiting, as he’d promised. He looked up as Yuuri emerged from the dressing room. His eyebrows drew together. “Yuuri? What’s-”

And Yuuri, in all his costumed, eros-filled glory, kissed Viktor full on the lips.

“Woah,” Viktor said.

“Hmm. That’s articulate.” Yuuri smirked and cocked one hip.

Viktor licked his lower lip in a slow motion. “What brought this on?”

“My mom called. She said to focus only on you.”

“I hope you realize that I’ve been saying that this entire-”

Yuuri kissed him again. He didn’t mind the staring. 

 

~

 

The spotlights were blinding, which was a good thing for Yuuri. He didn’t want to see the crowd… he only wanted to see Viktor. And he could, but only barely. His silver hair was easy to pick out in the front row of performers a few yards away - Yuuri could really only see his hair, though, since he was basically blind without his glasses.

He could hear the murmuring of the thousands of people in the arena. He didn’t look up or around. He didn’t want to know how many people were watching.

At that moment, only one of them mattered.

Yuuri felt like the music was wrapping around his body. Or maybe his body was wrapping around the music… Either way, he was weightless inside, his feet held him to the earth, and his body floated free, moving, serpentlike, telling a story.

All at once, the song was over. Yuuri realized his final pose was different: one hand had fingers resting over his heart, and the other was outstretched… towards Viktor.

The applause of the crowd was deafening, and Yuuri’s vision blurred with tears. He stumbled in the general direction of the exit for the dancers, limbs suddenly heavy, and Viktor was waiting for him… just like he’d promised.

“You were breathtaking,” Viktor whispered in his ear.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered back.

 

~

 

Night had fallen completely now. The arena had been faintly lit with red and white light when Yuuri had performed, but now it was completely dark. Viktor had left, and when he came back he revealed that he’d pulled some strings and gotten special lighting for his duet with Yuuri.  “You really _do_ have lots of friends here,” Yuuri had remarked dryly.

“You doubt my skills?” Viktor had replied.

It was quiet. The halls were empty - everyone was watching the duo ballroom routine. The couple who had placed first, Michele and Sara, worked beautifully together. Yuuri wasn’t at all upset that he and Viktor hadn’t placed in that category.

“Are you ready?” Viktor asked as Yuuri reached for his blue jacket.

“Of course I am.” Yuuri shrugged it on and buttoned it up. “Are you?”

“It’ll be interesting to be back in the spotlight,” he said. 

Yuuri went over and went to work on the buttons of Viktor’s jacket. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’ll be the perfect last hurrah.”

When Yuuri looked up, Viktor was staring stonily at the opposite wall.

“You don’t want to do duets with me next year?” Yuuri asked, masking his reaction to Viktor’s standoffish tone.

“That’s…” Viktor closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. He muttered something.

“Viktor, you know it bugs me when you say things under your-”

“The Afro-Eurasian Dance Final doesn’t allow same-sex couples,” Viktor snapped.

Yuuri had been straightening Viktor’s collar, but at his words, his hands stilled.

“I… I learned that the hard way.” Viktor’s shoulders were trembling, and he seemed to be gasping for breath. “I was dating… someone. I wanted to do a duo piece with him, and the panel… well. The entire association is biased against me. I… I shouldn’t have…”

“Viktor.” Yuuri grasped his shoulders. “You’re hyperventilating. Calm down…”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor whimpered, letting Yuuri push him onto a bench. “I’m burdening you. I can’t believe I’m-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay…!” Yuuri knelt in front of him and patted his hands. “I’m happy you’re talking to me, and not keeping everything inside. We said we wouldn’t lie to each other, didn’t we?”

“We did?”

“Probably at some point.”

“Even if we did, I wouldn’t remember it.” Viktor rubbed his nose. “Sorry-”

“Stop it, stop,” said Yuuri. “It’s not a problem, I love you, we need to go or we’re going to miss our spot in the lineup.”

Viktor let Yuuri pull him along. “Could you repeat that last part again?”

“We’re going to be  _ late!” _

“No, the other part.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor complained.

He paused and pecked Viktor on the nose. “Fine, fine, I love you! Let’s  _ go!” _

“Aw, Yuuri loooves me,” Viktor crooned.

“Shut up, Russian playboy, we’re in a hurry-”

“Russian what??”

“Enough!” Yuuri cried, and he took off down the empty hall, knowing Viktor would follow. 

 

~

 

Breathless from running, they reached the entrance just in time. Most of the dancers who had already performed were waiting for them, along with quite a few who hadn’t.

“Thank god!” Phichit ran up to Yuuri and hugged him. “We thought you two had run off!”

“Pay up,” Mila said to Sara.

“Huh?” Michele looked over, eyebrows drawing together.

“She bet twenty bucks that they’d show,” Sara said to him, forking over the cash. “My money was on them hiding in some closet, doing all sorts of-”

“Excuse me, there are children present!” Lilia shrieked.

“Ew, she’s talking about gross stuff,” Yuri said, sticking out his tongue.

“Hurry and get out there,” Yakov said. “Mrs. President is close to losing her mind…”

“Break a leg!” Phichit called, and several other dancers called out “good luck.”

“Good luck or whatever,” Yuri muttered.

“Yuri gave us his blessing,” Viktor said to Yuuri as they entered the arena. “We can’t mess up now.”

The massive arena was brightly lit, and Yuuri could see every single person. There must have been at least ten thousand people in the stands…

“Don’t look at them.” Viktor’s hands were smooth and cool, pulling him forward. “Yuuri. Look at me.”

Yuuri looked. As always, the sight of Viktor’s blue eyes wiped all thoughts from his mind.

 

There was nothing but empty space all around them. All of a sudden, the blinding lights of the arena shut off, and a blue-white spotlight shone down.

“I’ll see you in a moment,” Viktor said softly, and he stepped into the shadows.

The song began, and Yuuri’s feet moved in motions he knew well… He was dancing alone, lonely, waiting, waiting…

Viktor came. He promised he would, and of course he did. The music soared, and they floated into each other’s arms. Yuuri led Viktor in the intricate routine, and it felt natural as breathing.

Everything was quiet. It was only them and the music - it felt like he and Viktor were the only two people in the entire world.

The last, high note of the piano played, and Viktor was less than a foot from the floor. Yuuri’s arms shivered, and Viktor held on to his upper arms.

The arena erupted in a volcano of joyful noise, and hundreds of miles away, his mother started sobbing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter today, guys! Sorry it took so long... I had some mini-writer's block part of the way through. 
> 
> This is barely edited - I wanted to post it right away so I can get to writing the next chapter, which is the party and Pt. 4 of Nationals. After that... well. You'll see! ;)
> 
> Phichit, that Instagram-addicted picture sniper... And writing the triplets in was crucial, I couldn't leave them out!! Writing Yuuri's making-up with his mom was really important for me as well - things don't always turn out that well, but Yuuri deserves a happy ending :)
> 
> And poor Viktor!! There is a small story behind his mini-breakdown... I can explain it in the next chapter if you guys want. You're definitely welcome to venture guesses! I'll tell you if you're right.
> 
> Anyone wanna guess what Viktor's saving the rest of the cash for...??


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After-party - Yuuri, unwisely, does rainbow Jello shots and... I'm sure you can guess what happens next.
> 
> (Shameless Mean Girls reference. *glitter*)

“Your mother was teary-eyed through the whole performance,” his father admitted. “She’s still crying, I think. She burned something in the oven, so she’s taking care of- Oh, here she is.”

“Can I talk to-”

“Yuuri, sweetheart, that was beautiful!” his mother shouted through the phone. “I had no idea how skilled you are… I’m so proud!!”

“Thanks, Mom” was all Yuuri could think to say.

“Yuuri, hurry up! We still need to get back to the hotel!” Viktor called.

“Sorry, Mom, I gotta go. There’s this party tonight-”

“Oh, the banquet? I heard there’s going to be lots of media coverage.”

“Actually…” Yuuri repressed a smile. “Most of us are boycotting the banquet since they don’t allow actual partying, it’s mostly for business. Everyone pitched in and we rented out a venue.”

“Is that where your money paying Viktor back went?” his dad asked.

“Um, yeah…” Yuuri laughed awkwardly. “Partially. The other part Viktor kept.”

“Good, I’m glad he-”

“You paid him back without consulting me?” His mother’s voice was loud in the background.

His father gulped. “I’ll have to talk to her about this… Have a wonderful time, Yuuri, and see you tomorrow afternoon!”

“Okay! Bye!”

“Yuuri!” Viktor said again, impatiently. 

He put his phone in his pocket and jogged over. “Sorry. I’m ready now.”

“Good, because we need to pick out the perfect outfits for tonight!” Viktor’s fingers were flying across the screen of his phone. “Chris has already threatened a pole dancing competition and a chocolate fountain.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Yuuri said, raising his hand to hail a taxi.

“Mm, yes, I’d love to see you pole dance,” Viktor said.

“I was talking about the chocolate fountain,” Yuuri deadpanned.

“Oh. That would be fine, too, I guess.”

“Who are you texting?”

“Nobody!” Viktor hurriedly put his phone away.

Yuuri looked away, staring down the crowded street.

Viktor cracked immediately. “It was Chris. I was trying to get him to order rainbow Jello shots.”

“And you couldn’t have just told me?”

“I thought you might make fun of me…”

Yuuri smiled and patted the top of Viktor’s head. “I won’t make fun of you.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Viktor pouted.

“A little help here?” Yuuri was getting frustrated, as there seemed to be no taxis around. 

“I could call us an Uber.”

“No, we should just start walking, maybe-”

All of a sudden, a convertible pulled up in front of them. In the driver’s seat was Chris, and in the back was Mila, Sara, and Phichit.

“Get in, losers, we’re going shopping!” Chris crowed.

Suffice to say, Yuuri and Viktor didn’t have much choice in the matter.

 

~

 

“At least Chris didn’t make you buy that lingerie set,” Phichit said, shifting his armful of shopping bags to a more comfortable position.

Yuuri shuddered. “I can’t believe I opened the door and showed him. At least Viktor didn’t see.”

“Oh, no, I saw!” Viktor trilled, sidling up to them. “You looked very sexy.”

If he hadn’t been carrying two bags of clothes, Yuuri would have covered his face with both hands as it flushed.

“I can’t believe Chris is spending this much money,” Sara said from the other side of the hallway. 

“He loves dipping into his boyfriend’s bank account,” Viktor said. “I’m guessing that’s where most of his funds come from.”

“Huh? But wouldn’t he-”

“I’ve heard they’re close,” said Viktor. “He puts up with Chris’s antics on a daily basis. I’m sure this is fairly normal for them.”

Yuuri sighed. “I hope this night is over with soon.”

Famous last words.

 

~

 

Viktor looked amazing in a simple dress shirt, navy pants, and a jacket of the same color. He was wearing a tie as well, but it was a bit loose.

“Your tie,” Yuuri murmured, moving to help.

“You look handsome, Yuuri,” Viktor said. “Black and white is a good palette for you.”

“Th-thanks.” Yuuri cringed when he stammered, and straightened Viktor’s collar.

Viktor put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, and fingers brushed the side of his neck. “We can’t hide in a hotel bathroom forever, you know.”

“I know…” Yuuri tilted his head into the touch. “I don’t like parties.”

“Even if they’re privately rented?”

“That just means that I make a fool of myself in front of friends instead of strangers…”

“As I remember,” Viktor said, “the last party we went to together went pretty well.”

Yuuri blushed at the memory. “You were so drunk, though.”

“Not really… Anyways, that’s the point of parties!”

“Getting drunk?”

“Making memories.”

Yuuri cringed again. “I like to be in full control of my senses when I make memories, thanks.”

“Will you at least  _ try _ the pole?”

_ “What?!  _ NO!”

 

~

 

Yuuri tried the pole.

He hadn’t intended to get drunk, he really hadn’t. But Chris had ordered several sets of rainbow Jello shots, like Viktor had asked, and apparently these particular shots had a high alcohol content… Viktor and him sat across from each other and went through the entire rainbow, and by the blue shot, Yuuri was  _ definitely _ not thinking rationally.

_ (And they hadn’t even tasted that much like alcohol,  _ Yuuri lamented.)

“Yuuri, you’re a lightweight!” Viktor was thrilled to discover.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Yuuri said brightly, swaying on his feet.

“Hey, Yuuri!” Chris had also had a fair amount to drink. “Come over here!”

“What is it?” Yuuri called over.

“Come on, come on!” Chris coaxed, coming over and dragging Yuuri to the center of the large room. He’d had several people carry in a small stage with a pole mounted in the center. Nobody knew where he’d gotten it from. 

“Oh, no,” Yuuri said, starting to pull away from Chris.

“Aw, c’mon, Yuuri! Live a little! It’s just like your ‘Eros’ routine, but more advanced.”

“More… advanced?”

Phichit cackled and snapped about fifty pictures as Chris coached Yuuri on how to grip the pole.

“I hope he doesn’t hurt himself,” Viktor said as he took snapshots of Yuuri’s antics.

“Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s always had strong arms.”

“Were you two close?” Viktor asked.

“I mean, back in middle school, sure.” Phichit knelt down and leaned back a bit. “But I moved to Thailand with my coach to participate in Asian events, and we sort of lost touch. It’s so good to see him so happy.”

Viktor looked at him oddly. “Happy…?”

“Yuuri was so shy and self-conscious back then,” Phichit said, standing up again. “I don’t know if it was your help or time’s help, but he seems a lot more confident now.”

“That might be the alcohol…”

Phichit covered his mouth with one hand and smiled. “I meant his dancing. He’s not holding back in front of a crowd anymore.” 

“You competed back then?”

“Oh, barely. Local things. His mom didn’t like it much, and Yuuri was so nervous about performing… Chris!” Phichit yelled. “That’s dangerous! Knock it off!”

“Yuuri can do it!” Chris assured him. “Okay, Yuuri, grip it with your inner thighs, cross one leg over the other… and let go with your hands.”

As if he’d been doing it for years, Yuuri leaned back in a smooth movement and hung there, red-faced and grinning.

“Great job! You’re a natural! Of course, lean backs are beginner’s moves…”

“Teach me something more advanced!” Yuuri demanded.

“Chris, don’t you dare!” Viktor said.

Chris ignored him. “Okay, but you’ve got to watch me carefully…”

“What about you and Chris?” Phichit asked. “You guys seem to know each other pretty well.”

“We dated, for a while,” Viktor said. “Tried to perform a duet at the AE Final, and now the whole committee is prejudiced against me.”

“I’m sorry,” Phichit said softly.

Viktor shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Anyways, we didn’t really work out. We’re still friends, though.”

“That’s nice. Not everyone-” 

Phichit was cut off by Yuuri shrieking.

Viktor paled and looked up to see Yuuri fully inverted on the pole, legs bent at ninety-degree angles, one hand on his ankle.

 

“I did it!” Yuuri cried.

 

Phichit snapped another picture, and Yuuri lowered himself to the ground. He stumbled off the edge of the stage (which was, thankfully, only a few inches high) and over to Viktor.

“I did it,” he whispered in Viktor’s ear.

“I saw.” Viktor swallowed. “Be careful, okay?”

Before Yuuri could reply, Mila is shouting into a microphone. “You guys ready for music?!”

Georgi hooted his approval, and a few other dancers Yuuri didn’t recognize cheered.

A fast paced, pop-ish beat blasted through the speakers, lyrics in English as well as another language, and somebody flipped off the overhead lights, leaving the room mostly in darkness.

“Dance with me?” Yuuri adjusted his crooked glasses, and realized that it was his vision that was crooked and not his glasses.

“Okay,” Viktor said.

 

~

 

The dancing didn’t end until past midnight, when Yakov, Lilia, and Yuri showed up. Yuri looked distinctly disgruntled at being awake so late… or, rather, early.

“All of you, go back to your hotels!” Yakov boomed when Mila turned down the music. “It’s late and you all have flights to get on!”

There was widespread grumbling, but everybody started to gather their friends, coordinate rides, and vacate the room. Chris left to tell the hotel they were leaving, and Viktor and Yuuri went over to Yakov.

“What are you doing here so late?” Viktor asked.

“We’re sleeping on the floor above,” Lilia said.

“Nobody’s sleeping on the floor above,” Yuri snapped. “You people are so loud.”

“Yuri gets grumpy when he doesn’t sleep?” Yuuri asked Viktor a bit too loudly.

“We all do,” Yakov interjected before Yuri could snarl a reply. “Viktor, get him in bed. The jet lag alone is going to be an issue.”

“Oh, right, we’re going home tomorrow, aren’t we?” Yuuri’s legs were rubbery, and his head was light. “I forgot.”

“We both need some sleep,” Viktor said, looping an arm around Yuuri. “Hope you all can get some sleep now.”

Yuri yawned and followed Lilia and Yakov out the doors. He bumped into the wall, staggered, then tottered out of sight.

“He’s really just a kitten, isn’t he?” 

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Viktor warned. “Come on, Yuuri, they’re right. It’s really late.”

“Yeah, but he’s got a voice like an angel, so he’s, like… an angel kitten.”

Viktor snorted.

Though it was late, Viktor was able to find a taxicab that would take them to their hotel. Yuuri napped on Viktor’s shoulder for most of the ride. Viktor woke him up so they could walk to their room, but by the time they were in the elevator, Viktor was supporting most of Yuuri’s weight.

“Yuuri, help me out here,” Viktor begged. “I’m tired, too, and I can’t carry you around.”

“Why not?” Yuuri blinked blearily, noticing his glasses had fallen askew again. Viktor was a handsome blur of gray and blue. “You’re my prince, right? Carry meeee…”

“Come on, princess, it’s not much further. Stay with me.”

The room was dark. Yuuri collapsed onto one of the beds, face-first.

“Yuuuuri. At least take your shoes off.”

“Nooooo,” Yuuri moaned.

Hands closed around his ankles, and his shoes were tugged off. “Tie, too, Yuuri. You could strangle yourself.”

“Kinky,” Yuuri said, rolling onto his back and wrestling with his tie.

“Yuuri, you…” Viktor sighed and pulled his hands away. “Let me,” he said, undoing the knot Yuuri had tied into it and slipping it off him.

“Mm, might as well take my shirt and pants off while you’re at it,”

“You’re drunk,” Viktor said.

“You’re sexy,” Yuuri replied.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

Yuuri didn’t need to be told twice.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. Yuuri makes bad life choices and is going to be haunted by the pictures on Phichit's Instagram for the rest of his life... And we all know that Viktor is going to stare at those pictures all the time. They'll be his lockscreen, his background, his profile pictures...
> 
> I was thinking of adding another chapter after this where Yuuri officially makes up with his mom, but I think that pretty much already happened! Might move straight to the last chapter/epilogue. Y'all can guess what it's about... I foreshadowed it enough, I think!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Can't believe this wild ride is almost over o.o
> 
> Edit: I now realize that the dialogue at the end of this fic was (inadvertently!) stolen from an episode of Family Guy. No shame.........


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prom. Cliches abound.
> 
> For interested parties, the short version of the Prom music can be found at this link:  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNgyazNfUrVUxHP1SKjO0dC6RvtnYYYcr  
> (I listened to it as I wrote this.)

“Why are you so nervous?” Yuuko demanded. “You’ve been looking forward to this for, like, forever!!”

“It’s just… ugh, I don’t know.” Yuuri pulled at his tie and, glancing in the mirror, glowered at his reflection. “I’m worried I’ll say something stupid, or screw something up, or-”

“Yuuri, stop with the paranoia thing!”

“I can’t help it!”

Yuuko sighed. “Viktor doesn’t care about that stuff. I mean, he’s said stupid stuff to you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So chill out! Besides, finals are over! It’s time to celebrate!”

“God, don’t even remind me.” Yuuri adjusted the phone, which was pressed to his ear with his shoulder. “And I’ve got a stack of letters from colleges I haven’t opened yet…”

“You kiddin’ me? You probably got into all of them!”

Yuuri winced. “With my GPA, I’d be surprised if I got into half.”

“Hey, a 3.5 is pretty good, considering you did all the dancing stuff around it!”

“I guess.”

“Yuuri!” his mom yelled up the stairs. “Hurry, we’ll be late!”

“Gotta go. See you there!”

“I can’t wait to show off my dress!” Yuuko squealed.

“I know, you’ve been freaking out about it for at least six months…”

Yuuko hung up, and Yuuri grabbed his jacket from his bed and headed for the door.

~

“Are you excited?” his mom asked from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah…”

“Nervous?” his dad asked from the passenger’s side.

“Um… a little?”

“I remember when we went to Senior Prom,” his mother said, stopping at a red light. “Do you remember that, Toshiya? Must have been almost thirty years ago.”

“You guys were highschool sweethearts?”

“We never told you?” Yuuri saw his dad’s smile in the rearview mirror. “Your mother and I dated when she was a freshman and I was a senior… We went to Prom together, her first and my last.”

“Aww!”

“I wore the skimpiest pink dress.” His mom shuddered at the memory. “I looked like some sort of candy-themed stripper.”

 _“I_ think you looked marvelous.”

“You _would.”_

The car pulled up in front of the school, and Yuuri’s stomach jumped.

“Take lots of pictures!” His mom turned in her seat and patted his shoulder. “Viktor said he’d give you a ride home, right?”

Yuuri nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”

She smiled.

His dad huffed. “What am I, leftover katsudon?”

“That’s a bad metaphor,” Yuuri said, smiling. “Thanks, dad.”

“Have a great time, son.”

Yuuri checked his phone while waiting in the ticket line. Phichit had posted a selfie and tagged Yuuri in it. _To my friend, @yuuri_katsuki - have fun at Prom! Have a blast ;P #idemandpics #viktorxyuuri_

He commented on the picture: _I’m leaving most of the picture-taking to Viktor. Thanks for the support :)_

Handing his ticket across the table, Yuuri craned his neck and looked into the gym. He couldn’t see Viktor - he couldn’t really see anything, it was fairly dark in there.

“Hi, Yuuri.”

Yuuri turned around, and Viktor was standing right there.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to get a good look at your butt,” someone muttered from further back in the line.

Viktor took his hand and pulled him through the double-doors, into darkness.

Immediately they were surrounded by dancing bodies, people bumping into each other. Yuuri recognized the tune blasting through the speakers. Rainbow light flashed around the room.

“Dance with me?” Viktor breathed into his ear.

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri said, because really… how could he refuse?

~

Hours passed. Most of the people in the room gave up on their jackets and high heels, tossing them onto a growing pile by the back door. Yuuri had loosened his tie, and was working on gradually getting Viktor’s off.

Most of the music was fast, easy to move to. Yuuri experimented, moving his body in new ways, and decided that though he liked choreographed routines, there was something to be said for improvised dance… for one, he loved coming up with ways to surprise Viktor.

His head was pounding, and his shirt was sticking to his back. And at some point he’d gotten close to Viktor. Really close.

A slower song, but not exactly for slow-dancing - not in the traditional sense. Viktor’s eyes were mostly shadow, hints of blue shining through his hair and the darkness of the room. They moved as one animal, back and forth, and for a while Yuuri lost track of exactly where his arms were, which set of legs was Viktor’s, and just danced.

The room was hot, and Yuuri’s throat was dry.

After a while, Viktor gave up and headed for the doors. Yuuri followed him into the bright light of the hallway.

They drank deeply from the water fountain. Yuuri splashed water on his sweaty face.

Viktor was smirking when he turned back around.

“What?”

“You look hot,” Viktor said.

“I _am_ hot.”

“I meant-”

“I know what you meant.”

“Wanna dance?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri nodded, and they went back into the crowded room. A new song had started, and Yuuri recognized the voice of Pitbull. He dragged Viktor to the center of the room and they danced. People moved out of their way, and a few even stopped dancing to watch them.

And why wouldn’t they? Yuuri couldn’t tell exactly, but he was pretty sure that he’d never moved more deftly in his life. It felt like flying.

~

The music got quieter, and a familiar voice called out.

“Testing, testing… is this thing on?”

He looked up to see Yuuko standing by the DJ’s raised platform, microphone in hand. She was wearing a strapless red dress that brushed her ankles and had shimmery sequins patterned across the top.

“Hey, guys!” she yelled. “It’s Yuuko, your very own Student Council Prez! Y’all having a good time?”

Viktor whooped his approval along with most of the seniors, and Yuuri giggled, trying to catch his breath.

“Awesome, because we’ve got the results in for Couple of the Year!” Yuuko waved a slip of paper. “We had four nominations and the ballots were open this past week.”

“They were?” Yuuri whispered to Viktor.

“Guess so. I didn’t pay attention to-”

Yuuko unfolded the paper and read it…

She threw her head back and laughed. “Shoulda guessed it! Alright, the Couple of the Year for this coming school year is… Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki!!”

Yuuri’s feet glued themselves to the floor.

“Come on up, boys, don’t be shy!” Yuuko wheezed, grinning.

Viktor regained his senses first, and towed Yuuri to the front of the room. They joined Yuuko and the DJ on the platform, and Yuuri was _seriously_ not sure how this had happened…

“Any comments on your win?” Yuuko asked.

“I’m flattered,” Viktor said, “considering we haven’t made our relationship public yet.”

Yuuri blushed, but said nothing. It was as good a time as any to announce that they were dating, considering…

“Who nominated us?” he blurted.

Yuuko pushed the microphone into his face. “Say that again?”

“Uhm… who… who nominated us?”

“The entire student body!” yelled a random senior.

“Yeah, you two are disgusting!” shouted another.

“You need to get a room, like, all of the time!”

The room broke out in titters.

“Okay, now that we’ve all had a laugh at this adorable couple’s expense, we’re taking the photo and getting on with the dance!”

A photographer crouched down in front of them, positioning a camera on a tripod.

“Smile!” she said.

Viktor threw his arm over Yuuri’s shoulder and pulled him close, planting a kiss on the crown of Yuuri’s head as the flash went off.

A few people wolf-whistled.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Alright, knock it off!” Yuuko yelled.

Viktor threw Yuuri a devilish look. “Well?”

Yuuri knew he was asking for permission. He didn’t give any, leaning in and kissing Viktor full-force.

“Woo!” someone whooped, and several others groaned.

“Get married already!”

“Might have to do that, too,” Viktor managed when Yuuri pulled away.

“I’d say yes,” Yuuri said.

A slow song, classic and sappy. Yuuri undid the top two buttons of Viktor’s shirt as they swayed together. Viktor laughed softly, breath hitting Yuuri’s neck and making him shiver.

“Forward, aren’t we?”

“Mm, only for you.”

Yuuri sighed, laying his forehead on Viktor’s shoulder.

“What is it, _moya lyubov?”_

They lifted their heads at the same moment, and Yuuri smiled and touched his forehead to Viktor’s.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“Sap.”

“But I’m your sap.”

Viktor hummed in agreement.

Yuuri had never felt happier in his life.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... cut! That's a wrap!
> 
> I wrote most of this in a straight hour-and-a-half, it's mostly unedited. Bee-tee-dubs.
> 
> That's it - this is the end of the story. I have a short extra chapter and a short epilogue, one of which is already written and will be revised and published, but when I say "short" I mean SHORT. So, this really is the end... For us, at least. For Yuuri and Viktor, there will be many more happy years of competition, college, and marriage... probably in that order.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos - your support means the world to me!!
> 
> Edit: I am absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the kudos and view count here. Never in my wildest fantasies have I thought that my writing would interest more than 10,000 people... give or take. I'm so flattered and I'm excited to keep working on future writing!


	36. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come full circle.

“Well? What colleges did you get into?”

“UNCSA… NYU… Julliard…”

Yuuri winced. “Julliard didn’t accept me.”

“What?! But you’re so good…!”

“Thanks for saying that, but I’m not as good as you.”

“You will be when we’re finished with this next year of competition! Now, which did  _ you _ get into?”

“Uhm, I also got into UNCSA… also, The University of the Arts…”

“Ooh, I got in there as well! I read they have great merit scholarships.” Viktor cleared his throat. “Anyways, have you started packing?”

“Viktor.”

“Hm?”

“I finished already.”

“Oh.”

Yuuri smiled. 

“Ahem, anyways! You ready for our date tonight?”

“I think you’ve texted me at least twice asking me that.”

“And?”

“The answer’s still the same.”

Viktor was silent.

“Did you forget what I said?”

“I’m going to guess that’s a “yes” and hang up now.”

“Aw, so soon?”

“We’ll be seeing each other in an hour, Yuuri. Think you can last that long?”

“Oh, I know I can. I’m more worried about you being able to last that long.”

“We’ll talk more about college later,” Viktor said, changing the subject in an instant. “We’ve got time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Those words made Yuuri’s spirits soar. 

“Yeah,” was all he could say.

 

Yuuri hurried out the door, fumbling with the zipper on his coat and juggling his wallet and glasses, which had slipped off a moment before. He was too preoccupied to notice a certain silver-haired someone wasn’t paying attention either…

_ Crash! _

Flat on his back, Yuuri stared up at the clear blue sky.

“Ugh,” he groaned, sitting up.

He slipped on his glasses to see Viktor sprawled on the ground a foot away. His blue eyes gleamed with humor, and Yuuri was consumed with deja vu.

“We have  _ got _ to stop running into each other like this,” Viktor cracked.

All Yuuri could do is laugh. He stood and reached down, taking Viktor’s hand in his.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Just read through this completely for the first time, doing a bit of editing, and now I'm hella nostalgic... Now I need to stop putting off updating HtS, haha. Hello to all my new readers, and thank you so much for indulging in my AU!!! :)


	37. One Last Update!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm done after this. I don't even know if anyone's subscribed to this fic, haha.
> 
> I was alerted to the fact that there are, in fact, several songs called 'Rhythm of Love,' none of which I registered copying when I thought of the name of this fic. Maybe it was subconsicous...? Anyways, I listened to a few, and I decided to post a short list, just to revive the nostalgia. And then I'm done. For realsies.
> 
> Love you all <3 <3

 

1\. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9w63PwIV9JM

The lyrics to this 'Rhythm of Love' are very peppy, and also pretty relevant to this story, I think. I mean, it's about expression and high school love, right? This just _fits. ("_ Yuuri _,_ "quit hesitating" and get with Viktor already" - everyone @ this fic.)

 

2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UcxcIQCynZw

This 'Rhythm of Love' is a slightly different genre, but the lyrics pertain to music and certainly click with this fic!! I like the idea that music is the "heartbeat of my soul" for Yuuri and Viktor. Of course, their relationship is much tamer than the lyrics here ;)

 

3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUG3Dz9OC_c

This song is the oldest of the bunch, but only by a year, as #2 came out in 1988 and this one came out in 1987. The lyrics are very eros: "Morning daydream time still growing shorter/Take me over, lead me to the water... Nighttime fever, burning till you're higher/Take me over, lead me through the fire..." Love it <3

 

4. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59UOw8CIlRw

I love Anita Baker's music (though I haven't heard a whole lot), so this HAD to be included. "Open your arms, close your eyes/Hearts will harmonize/Making music in your arms..." Sound familiar? (Pair skate, anyone??)

 

5. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWiwuiT58Yc

And, naturally, I had to put in the one everyone's thinking about. (You thought I'd missed it, huh?) Here's my altered version of a lyric for this fic: "He's got blue eyes deep like the sea/That roll back when he's laughing at me/He rises up like the tide/The moment his lips meet mine."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously now, *THE END.* I love this fic too much to keep dragging it out. 
> 
> Also: to anyone here from HtS, I AM working on the next chapter, but I have AP's starting in a few days, so an update might not be until next week. Thanks for your patience, and thanks for revisiting my old fic ^_^


End file.
